And So We Run
by kirasometimes
Summary: They could tell you exactly when it started; when it got so complicated, that was the real story.
1. Chapter One

**Title: **And So We Run**  
>Author: <strong>Claddagh Ring

Disclaimer: I do not own _Glee._

_"_**I'm an insecure, neurotic control freak on crack." **_- properly translates into _please review because I love you.__

* * *

><p><em><strong>RACHEL<br>**_"They're idiots!" Blaine insisted, emphasizing his point by sloshing a good bit of dark ale onto the counter. He had passed his sobriety limit over three drinks ago and he had the vague impression that his words were coming out in a slur but he was encouraged on by Rachel's fervent nods of agreement. "Complete, total, inexhaustible morons."

"I know, right?" Rachel cried with a slap to his shoulder, a usually friendly gesture that in her drunken state, sent a stinging flare across his nerves. "I'm Rachel freaking Berry!"

"Fucking Berry," he corrected with a tip of his glass. "You are Rachel Barbara Fucking Berry. You sleep in sheets with gold stars on them. You know the entire libretto to Le Miz in _french._ You have two gay dads! You are fucking Broadway and if those pissant casting directors don't know it, then they just need to take a swan dive off stage left to kiss my ass."

"Blaine!" Rachel giggled into her extremely bright pink cosmopolitan that matched her flushed cheeks as she looked around the room quickly. "Lots of important people drink here; you can't just say things like that."

"What, am I wrong? Hey, Marco, you know what I'm talking about," he directed towards the bartender heading their way. "You've heard her sing," he said as Rachel buried her face in her hands. "They heard her sing and didn't cast her. They're idiots, right?"

"Absolutely," Marco the bartender answered, exchanging Blaine's beer for a water which Blaine looked at with sour disappointment, but didn't protest. The only reason they were allowed to drink there was because Marco didn't mind serving them as long as they were quiet about it. It also helped that Marco seemed to developed an interest in Rachel and she was quick figure out that there was a direct flirting to alcohol ratio in their interactions. So she was always sure to be friendly around him, though she didn't mind so much: he was an aspiring actor as well and his experience with bit roles in "off-off-way-off" Broadway was extremely valuable to her.

Marco leaned casually against the bar, nudging the glass towards Blaine while he continued speaking to Rachel. "Struck out again kid?"

"Unfortunately, my talents have yet to be recognized," Rachel confirmed, abandoning her own drink so Blaine didn't feel so bad for being cut off. It would do them both good to sober up as neither of them had money for a cab ride home, having spent it all in an effort to drown Rachel's sorrows. Her dreams of instant Broadway superstardom hadn't exactly taken off in the whirlwind she imagined. In fact, to say they had even started was probably stretching the truth and while after a year, she was used to the audition grind, she was forced to admit that she was nothing more than a nineteen year old dreamer fresh off her freshman year in college. In the big city of New York, girls like her were plentiful, no matter how unique she insisted she was. Most days she could take it all in stride, but there was only so many times she could hear that she wasn't good enough or experienced enough, or that she didn't look or sound a certain way and everything she prided herself on wasn't _enough._

The thing was, she knew she was enough. It was just a matter of finding the right person to recognize that, at the right time, on the right stage. Her defeat was only momentary and yes, every now and then, she would give into the wallowing pit of self-despair that welled up in her after every failed audition, but she knew how to pull herself out. If she had faced this kind or rejection in high school, she would still be in Lima but if there was one thing she'd learned in her first year in the city, it was how to stay confident. Still, it didn't hurt to hear the same confidence from other people.

"But they will be," Blaine remarked, slinging his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. His loose curls ticked her forehead as she leaned hers against his. She smiled brightly at her best friend, pivoting in her seat to give him a proper hug. He laughed as she kissed him on briefly on the cheek before covering the spot with her hand – a tradition they'd started on her graduation day, "so you can use it when you need it," he'd said and while they both knew it was corny, it had stuck with them.

There was a lot about the two of them that had stuck. She never expected to remain so close to Blaine after she and Kurt started NYADA, especially when the distance between Kurt and Blaine had proved more than either of them were prepared for. Phone calls were missed and texts left unanswered until midterms week when Kurt announced in a stress-induced frenzy that he had broken up with Blaine two weeks prior. Yet somehow, despite the awkward months that followed, Rachel and Blaine had remained in fairly constant contact and when she returned to Ohio for the holidays, he literally swept her off her feet in the street when they finally reunited.

They didn't talk about Kurt or her own unraveling relationship with Finn. He wanted to hear everything about her life in college and the guys he was convinced were falling over themselves to get at her. He laughed freely at her subway horror stories, teased her when she exaggerated how horrid some of her classmates and professors were. In the back of her mind, she guessed he should have been miserable but there was a light in his eyes, an easiness to his smile and a spring to his step that belied that. The worries she'd had for him – that admittedly stemmed from her worries for Kurt – faded away.

She wasn't able to go back home with Kurt over spring break, but she spent the better half of the week talking to Blaine on the phone about his own impending move to New York. She was surprised he still intended to go through with it, even though the plan was left over from the one's he and Kurt had made together, but he insisted that New York was just one in a long list of cities he intended on residing in. And as they spoke, Rachel realized this was the first she'd ever heard of Blaine's future plans, as vague as they sounded with only a list of travels and no actual career to sustain it. But he was passionate and earnest and the fact that he wanted her to be a part of it excited her to no end.

She felt awful for missing his graduation, even though he assured her it was a non-event and she could make it up to him in less than a month when he finally packed everything up and moved to the city. Kurt shared her exhilaration, though to a lesser extent she felt. He and Blaine had started rebuilding their bridges and while she was sure Kurt was hoping to eventually rekindle their lost romance, she wasn't convinced it was in Blaine's plans. When she tried to ask him about, he ended up evading the conversation.

Her jaw had dropped when she finally, after seven months, laid eyes on him and the only coherent thought she had was that Senior Year had done right by Blaine Anderson. He was almost unrecognizable without his slicked back hair, bow ties, and suspenders. His hair fell in a natural curl that she'd never seen before, sweeping over his that looked shockingly golden when contrasted with his simple white v-neck shirt and slouchy jeans. She'd never seen him so under-dressed, but it suited him. It was in complete sync with the way he carried himself; his shoulders were held back with confidence, his stride purposeful and the light and ease and overall free attitude she'd seen over Christmas had locked in. There was a swell of pride in her as she embraced him because this was _her _Blaine.

And now, just over two months later, she couldn't recall ever feeling closer to anyone, and not only because he had somehow managed to lay across his own stool and rest his head on her lap. Her short skirt left her legs bare, but he didn't seem to notice and kept chatting away amicably as he stared up at her. Marco laughed at whatever he'd said and Rachel threw in a slight giggle of her own, even though she wasn't entirely sure what she was laughing about.

"You two better get out of here," Marco said suddenly, straightening up and in an instant, her forgotten drink disappeared under the bar. She swiveled around just enough to see the bar's owner walk in the door. Marco may not have minded serving them, but the boss did. Rachel hastily shoved Blaine off her lap; he landed rather gracefully and stood up, only swaying to the left in the slightest way. Marco took the rest of what they owed him and he ushered them out the side door before the owner had made it halfway across the room.

"I'll see you guys around," Marco said in departure. "And Rachel? You really are going to make it out there someday."

"I know," she responded with a hug. "Thanks Marco."

Blaine was waiting for her at the end of the dark alley, fumbling and cursing at something in his pocket, and let out a triumphant shout as he extracted his ipod from it. He unwound the headphones, offered her one which she took and they started their long walk back to her overpriced studio apartment that was barely more than a closet, but it was a far better alternative than having to endure the nightmare dorm rooms for another year. But since she was on the top floor, she did have easy access to the roof and on the warm summer nights, it wasn't uncommon for her and her guests to use it as their own private lounge area.

"_Johnny what's the deal boy?"_ Blaine sang loudly, garnering a few strange looks as the walked through the crowd, but it didn't faze him at all. A year ago, Rachel might have even blamed the alcohol for his behavior, but having walked this same path with him several times singing the latest Katy Perry or classic Disney songs, she knew this was something he would've – and had – done even sober.

"Why do you have this on here?" she laughed as his headphone fell out.

"Because it's pure eighties awesome," he explained before he launched into the chorus, twirling her around in the street. Her own headphone fell out, but she preferred Blaine's voice in any case.

"You are ridiculous," she gasped as they reached her apartment building. She started digging for her keys as Blaine herded her through the door and towards the elevator which she prayed wasn't out of order this week. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when the up button lit up and the doors opened without any suspicious whirring or flickering lights

"You love me," Blaine asserted, catching her by her waist and pulling her into the lift. He stumbled slightly and she ended up pressed into the far corner, trapped between the grimy metal and his impossibly warm body. Heat radiated off him like he had his own personal sun and it was seeping into her. She didn't mind that exactly; after all it wasn't the first time they'd been as close as this. It was familiar, comforting, even if the heat was just a combination of intoxication and exposure from their walk.

"Maybe so," Rachel said, though she was finding it hard to sound stern with him standing so close, smirking at her while still managing to look like a kicked puppy. She lifted a finger and placed it on the tip of his nose, tapping the edge of it with every word, "but that doesn't excuse how completely and utterly ridiculous you are."

He watched her movements like a hawk and as she lifted her finger once more, his chin jutted upwards, capturing her fingertip between his teeth with a gentle nip. It didn't hurt, but she was shocked nonetheless. Because despite their touchy tendencies towards each other, Blaine had never done anything like this. Her finger in his mouth, she couldn't help that it felt intimate. If he would just let go, then they could laugh it off, but he didn't. He was even closer now and she had at some point unconsciously aligned her hips to match his. His hand was secure at the small of her back and his chest hitched with an unused breath. She matched his with one of her own as he tongue flicked out around her captured skin.

She could see his eyes darken as he leaned towards her, finally letting her hand drop from his lips. It didn't fall far, only to the middle of his chest and while she was debating whether or not to push him away, he muttered, "you taste awesome".

And then his lips were on hers in a way that was strictly not platonic, a way that was strictly not them. It was the shock, she reasoned later, that let her mouth fall open the way it did, inviting him in. It was the the lack of oxygen that left her panting, not the actual kiss. The heat of his hands on her skin under her shirt only felt good because she was in dire need of a hot oil massage. Because that was the rational, logical response for when you found yourself drunkenly making out with your gay best friend.

It wasn't because he left her breathless, or that everywhere he touched her felt like trailing fire. It wasn't the way he nipped at her bottom lip, or the way his tongue caressed the small injury. It wasn't the low groan in the back of his throat as she tugged at his hair. It wasn't the increased urgency in his kiss and the ever-building need she felt deep in her chest, burrowing it's way down her body. It wasn't him hard, pressed against her bare inner thigh.

They managed to get off the elevator in a tangle of limbs and she pressed his back against the door. It swung open and she cursed as they fell to the floor. A small part of herself chided her for not locking up when she left that morning, but mostly she was focused on the fact that she was straddling Blaine's hips in her very short skirt as he kicked the door closed. She bent forward to kiss him and he let out a deep moan, the cords of his neck tight. It took a moment to register on her, but that small movement, the little twist of her own hips had meant she was literally grinding against his core and if she thought he'd been hard before, she was sorely mistaken.

It was kind of amazing to her honestly, because he wasn't supposed to react this way to her. He was meant to be decidedly turned _off _by this, but that was clearly not the case. "Are you uncomfortable?" she whispered, her hair falling around them, trailing her hand slowly down his chest. He made to kiss her but she pulled back, just out of his reach, granting him a coy smile. Her fingers snapped the the button of his jeans open and he merely nodded, eyes on her hands as they disappeared under the denim. His head feel back with a resounding crack against the concrete floor. His hips gave an involuntary shudder and arched upwards until her hands. She liked the way it felt. She liked the way he responded to her. It was frightening in a way; if they did this, it could potentially ruin everything. She could let herself out of the moment, over-think this, but she knew enough about her own body to know that she _wanted _this, and enough about a male's body to know that he did too. At the very least, on a physical function, he wanted it. He wanted her.

So she let instinct take over as she leaned down to kiss him. He met her halfway.

-:-

It was terribly cliché but she couldn't help the thought from crossing her mind: he seemed to glow under the soft light of the sunrise. Blaine was sound asleep, curled up on his side, sheets tangled about his waist. Seeing him this way, Rachel let herself feel the things she might have felt for him if they'd met in another life. Somewhere they might have stood a real chance; a world where they could have the nights and the days as well. But in this world, reality rose with the sun and it was a harsh reminder that she had quite possibly made the worst mistake she'd ever made.

She slept with Blaine. He'd been drunk – and she'd been drunk on a momentary fantasy – and it didn't matter that he'd reciprocated because he would wake up, head pounding, groggy, and hungover. She could already see the regret fill his eyes as the pieces of last night fell into place. She wondered if it would look anything like her own. She could hear him in her head, trying to explain how much she meant to him, that he loved her and would always love her, but not in _that way_. It struck her how familiar this sounded to her; how it was everything any guy had ever said her her when he didn't need her anymore. Even in her head, being rejected left it's sting.

Coming from Blaine, she knew she wouldn't be able to take it. She would know he wasn't lying to her or letting her down easy. He cared too much about her to withhold truths like this from her and it was his sincerity she was dreading most. Because at least with the others, she could hear the dishonesty in their words and she could leave thinking she was better off. It wouldn't be like that with him. She feared a part of her would die if their friendship did because of one – _though technically several – _stupid inebriated mistake.

"_Just pretend it never happened," s_he nodded resolutely to herself as she plodded to the kitchenette and started brewing a pot of tea.. She was an actress after all and if she couldn't convince the people closest to her in believing what she wanted, then she had no business being one. _"Think of it as your first practical examination."_

While he slept, she tried to persuade herself that it would be easy and had very nearly succeeded, she thought, until she heard him stir. With a sneaking peek over her shoulder, she saw him sit up in her bed. He scratched the back of head and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm, blinking in the sunlight steadily streaming in from the nearby window. His bare knee slipped out from under the sheet and she reminded herself that he was still naked and it wouldn't do to brazenly stare at him in that state. At least not this morning; it would only embarrass them both further.

"Morning," he said behind her, his voice taking on a gravelly quality she'd never head in him before.

"Good morning," she said, sounding a bit too chipper to even her ears. Still, she plastered on her brightest, most innocent smile and turned around to offer him a cup of tea. Because it's what she would have done on a normal morning, to any guest who had stayed over, and if she was going to pretend that everything was normal and last night hadn't happened, then she was going to do the things she always did.

She nearly dropped the cup when she realized Blaine hadn't bothered to get dressed past slipping his boxers on. He sat, bare-chested, armed, legged, _everything _at her meager kitchen table, smiling at her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her eyes widened and she whirled around quickly, unable to stop the small squeak from escaping her lips or the blush creeping across her cheeks.

"Rachel?" he asked, clearly worried.

"Ah- ar- are you hungry?" she hated herself for stammering, for losing her facade so easily, but she hadn't expected him to be so casual. She expected remorse, regret, shame and instead he was prancing around in his underwear and grinning like he wasn't troubled at all.

"Hey," he said, causing her to jump.

She just needed to start talking. Anything would do. Anything that meant he didn't get to talk, because she wasn't prepared with an answer yet. "I don't really have much to eat," she began rambling, "but I'm sure there's something I could make. Or we could go out to that diner across the street and get -"

She lost complete track of what she was saying, just letting the words tumble out to fill the void. She could hear him trying to interrupt, but she was determined not to let him, not until she got a handle on the situation again._ "A situation that could have been avoided entirely if he'd thought to put on a damn shirt"_, she though bitterly. _"He's ruining everything just sitting there like that._

"RACHEL!" he yelled finally and she fell silent. Slowly she turned to face him, looking at a spot just just over his shoulder, afraid to look at him.

"What?" she breathed hesitantly.

When he didn't answer right away, curiosity got the better of her and she risked a glance towards him. His eyes were there the meet hers, though sadly. The corners of his mouth turned down and it was very much the image she'd conjured in her head in the early hours, but it wasn't in the same context. Because he didn't look sad about what had happened. He looked sad about what has happening now, in the present, at that very moment. "Are we really going to act like nothing happened?" he finally asked.

"_So he did remember," _she thought, her shred of hope slipping through her fingers.

"Yes," she replied aloud before she could stop herself, like a script she had practiced. His jaw tensed and set into a straight line, but gave no other reaction. "Yes," she repeated, "because if nothing happened and if I didn't like it, then every thing can just go back to normal and that's what I want. Normal."

She turned away from him once more and started fidgeting nervously with the dishes she'd left out to dry the previous morning. There were water spots on her nice glasses but to wash them again, she would have to go get a towel from the bathroom and that meant putting herself in Blaine's general path. So she just reached up, standing on the tip of her toes as she tried to place them on the top shelf. That's when she felt his hand on her back, fingertips dancing under the hem of her shirt as he kept her balanced. His other took the glass from her and gently set it cabinet. His arm brushed against her shoulder as he pulled down a coffee mug from himself.

His hand rose higher on her back and it was completely and totally needless, but she couldn't seem to pull away. He reached around her, across her, for the coffee pitcher, blocking her in against the counter and it was like she was back on the elevator. The way he stood against her, with one leg nudging against the back of her knees, it brought the heat to rise in her again. She could feel is rebounding off him and she could see on the edge of his collarbone the mark she's made for herself last night. It was bright against his skin and she just wanted to touch it again. But then his mouth was at that sensitive spot near her ear, just close enough to be considered teasing, and his breath was hot on the nape of her neck.

His hand dropped from her back and fluttered against the inside of her bare leg, just under the hem of her satin pajama shorts. It was just a simple touch, one that could have even been considered accidental or innocent coming from someone else, but his intentions where anything but that and it was overwhelming to her. "Okay, stop," she pleased. "Just don't, okay?"

"What?" he asked, the naivety in his voice betrayed by the dark of his eyes.

"This!" she cried, pushing him away from her. "Because _this_ – touching and sex and all do this – this isn't what we do!"

"Do you want to?" he asked, stepping towards her until all illusion of personal space disappeared. "Again?"

It was wrong. They would regret it. Maybe not today, or the next day. Maybe not for a long time, but they would. But she did want him again. She wanted him to touch her, to fill her her up over and over again. She wanted to feel what it felt like to crawl inside his skin. She wanted to make him scream her name. She wanted him to force his from her lips one more time. She wanted to feel his pulse between her teeth, her fingers, her legs. She wanted his breathe on every inch of her skin and damn it, but she was too selfish to say no if he was offering.

"Yes."

-:-

It was just past ten when Blaine finally put the coffee on to brew after warming up Rachel's forgotten tea. She sat on the counter, legs dangling off the edge, smiling contently as she watched Blaine prepare a late breakfast from the limited supplies of her pantry. Which, as it turned out, only had almond butter spread and whole wheat toast. She had suggested, once again, that they go out and could only laugh in agreement when he pointed out that required them to get dressed. Now that the awkwardness had disappeared, she was quite satisfied to laze around in only her bra and shorts. As for Blaine, she decided the less clothing he wore, the better.

She'd never allowed herself to think of him in any way other than her friend. Objectively, she knew that he was an attractive man, but he was completely off limits and as she'd thought until recently, completely gay. It did her no good to catalogue all his desirable traits if they were unattainable. But that wasn't the case anymore, it seemed. Over the morning, she'd started to see him differently. Where she used to say he had an adorable smile, she now called it sexy. His hair was luscious, thick and inviting. His eyes were riveting. The breadth of his shoulders were strong, chest chiseled, hips perfectly indented. He wasn't her cute friend Blaine. He was, for lack of a better word, _hot_.

He passed her a sandwich half and came to stand between her legs, his free hand on her hip. "My lady," he proclaimed with a quirk of his eyebrows and she could only chuckle as she took a small bite of her meal. She scoffed at her earlier skepticism and wondered how she could think so badly of him. She thought back to her first impression of him the day he moved to New York. It hadn't been a momentary thing at all; he had changed. No, not changed, she thought, more like he'd grown into his skin.

"I've never seen you like this," she said aloud.

He was finishing off the last of his sandwich and his words were slightly garbled as he asked, "like what?"

"Just so..." She wasn't sure how to explain it to him, the change she saw in him. It wasn't that he wasn't who he'd always been. He was still Blaine and everything that made him unique and wonderful, but more somehow. "Complete, I guess. That's not the right word, I'm sorry. It's like you've grown up. You've always been very mature because of all the things you've gone through at a very young age, but you always seemed a little weighted down by it. You would smile and laugh and you never wanted to bother anyone with your problems, but there was always a little bit of sadness to it all. And I just don't see that now. Happy. You're happy."

"Is that a bad thing?" he asked with a smirk.

"Of course not!" she exclaimed, tracing small circled on his chest as he linked his arms around her waist. "It looks good on you."

"You look good on me."

"I just mean you've changed," she said, rolling her eyes in amusement towards him. "I just kind of wonder when it happened."

"Well you have too," he declared, kissing the crown of her head as he did. "You thrive here Rachel. All the drive and ambition you had in Ohio, you finally have something to channel it into and it's done wonders by you. You're confident, in everything. I don't just mean in your talents, but in who you are."

He began trailing the lightest path of kisses from her temple down her jawline to the crook of her neck. He swept aside her desperately tangled hair and she was almost ashamed to admit how quickly she was becoming addicted to the feel of his lips on her skin. It was unlike anyone else she'd been with. There was a purpose in his touch, a method to the madness he seemed to instill in her and it was so hard not to immediately fall into him.

"While I really appreciate that," she said, trying to keep her focus, "you're not answering my question."

"I didn't realize you were asking one," he murmured, hands splayed across her ribcage, the pad of his thumb pressed on the underside of her breast.

"It was implied," she said with a pointed look, pulling away just far enough that his hands had to fall to the counter.

"Let's just say I learned a few things about myself last year," he said vaguely, but Rachel could see the flash of that old sadness in his eyes as whatever memories she'd stirred up came to surface. It was brief, barely enough to register but she felt a sudden and immense resentment towards it. Blaine didn't belong to it anymore and she wasn't going to give it a chance to take it over. In a rush, as if she were chasing it to the finish line, she captured his mouth in an open kiss, wrapping her legs around his waist and drawing him into her. She led his hands back to her body and they vanished under the cotton cups of her bra and just like that, she was lost in his touch again.

-:-

They hadn't even bothered to put their undergarments this time, instead Blaine retrieved the crumpled sheet from her bed when they moved to the couch at a quarter to one. Half of the white linen was spread across his legs, ending just above his knees. She was leaning against the armrest, curled up in the rest. His head lay in her lap as she stroked the stands of hair that curled around his forehead. She could feel him smiling against her leg, humming an unfamiliar melody.

Her phone beeped from the table next to her and she looked at it on impulse. Kurt's names blinked at her in accusation and suddenly she felt sick. Not once, not even one single time since Blaine had kissed her in the elevator had she thought about Kurt in all of this. Kurt, her dear friend, who trusted her so much and had at one time been deeply in love with Blaine and might even still be. She remembered the hope in his voice when he talked about how good it felt to be with Blaine again.

"_Oh God,"_ she thought in horror. _"They went out last week."_

"What's wrong?" Blaine asked, blinking up at her when her ministrations abruptly stopped.

"Are you back together with Kurt?"

"What?" he cried, bolting upright in his seat and a look of shock overtook his features for the first time that day.

"Oh God," she breathed, echoing her previous thoughts. "I can't do this. I mean, it's already ludicrous enough as it is, but I cannot help you cheat on your boyfriend."

"Whoa, whoa, wait," Blaine said quickly, reaching for her hand but she pulled away before he could. "Kurt and I are not together."

"But you were on a date last week," Rachel argued.

"Is that what he said?" he gaped, incredulous. "No, no we did not go on a date."

"Does he know that?"

"Yes, he should," Blaine said harshly.

"Then I'm confused," Rachel admitted. "But I do know that if you and he are even talking about getting back together, then I can't do this. He'll hate me Blaine."

"It's complicated Rachel," he responded, rubbing the back of his neck in agitation.

"Which means what exactly?" she demanded. "Because usually, that's code for something."

"Did Kurt ever tell you why we broke up?" Blaine asked, his voice barely over a whisper as he stared at his hands and she could hear the sadness in his voice.

"He said it was the distance," she answered, the defensive tone from earlier gone.

Blaine gave a dry chuckle and turned away from her, shaking his head. It was almost disbelieving, like he couldn't comprehend what she'd said. It was a long minute before he spoke again, though still without looking at her. "That's what we told people," he said darkly. "When you tell people it was a long-distance relationship, they tend to write it off with no questions asked. I guess that's what we both wanted though, for different reasons. He didn't want people to ask questions. I didn't want to have to give them answers."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," Rachel said gently.

"He came down to see me one weekend, just out of the blue," he recounted distantly. "It was in the middle of September or something. I was excited to see him until he told me that he wanted us to take a break."

"Just like that?" Rachel gasped.

"You think you're surprised," Blaine joked, finally looking at her again, "imagine what it was like for me. He said that he still loved me, but that being in New York had shown him how little he knew about the world, and how few people he knew. There was this guy he'd met in his summer seminar. His exact words were that he wanted 'to experience all that New York has to offer without feeling guilty'. And I get that, you know, now that I'm here too. It's wild; it draws you and it's all you can do to keep up. But a year ago, when I was stuck in Lima, it just felt like not only was he breaking up with me for someone else, he was leaving me behind. I wasn't good enough for him anymore."

"I don't remember Kurt dating anyone though."

"It didn't work out apparently."

"You never said anything to me," she said, hugging her knees to her chest.

"You didn't need the stress of my problems," he shrugged, "and I didn't want to put you in the middle of it. So I just dealt with it on my own. I'm good at that."

She could only nod; they had just been talking about this, about how he would try so hard to keep everyone from feeling his pain. But to not even mention it to her in almost a year, it just made her feel deeply sad for him. There was already so much he'd had to go through on his own in his life, but a break-up was something you cried to your friends about. They were supposed to talk about how dumb it was that you would ever be dumped, they were supposed to take you out and do stupid things to cheer you up. She hadn't done that for Blaine and she had a sneaking suspicion that no one had.

"When I move to McKinley – and don't get me wrong because I'm glad I did – I don't think anyone really understood that I kind of moved my entire life as well," Blaine continued, "and I did it for Kurt. It's what he wanted and I was in love. When he broke up with me, it all hit me. I didn't have Kurt anymore and most of the good friends I made had graduated with him. I was lonely. I started visiting Dalton more and more and Nick introduced me to a friend of his at a party. We... connected. I wasn't sure that I was ready to be with anyone just yet, but we had a lot of shared interests. It was nice to have someone to talk to and it was easy. There wasn't any pressure to do anything or be anyone and I think because of that, the whole relationship moved pretty fast. We slept together before New Year's and we'd only been dating for maybe two months."

"That's why you seemed so happy over the break," Rachel smiled, more pieces of her puzzle falling into place. She hadn't imagined it at after all; he had been different when she visited for the holidays. "What was his name?"

"Her name was Michelle."

"Her na- _her!_" she shouted; sure she looked absurd with her mouth hanging open as she gawked at him. A tiny smirk splayed across Blaine's face as he leaned against the armrest opposite from her. "Michelle. As in, a girl, like an actual girl?"

"Despite the very diverse population of Lima," Blaine said dryly, "I don't think central Ohio is the hot spot for transgenders."

"You know what I mean!"

"I'll tell you if you stop screaming at me," he teased, ducking as the pillow she threw at him in retaliation just missed his head. "Yes, Michelle is an actual real life girl; about 5'6, blonde hair, blue eyes, a typically all-American girl. Except for the fact that she's also bisexual and when I met her, had currently broken up with her long-distance girlfriend. Our circumstances were just so similar and she understood what I was going through. More than that, she emphasized. And she was kind of dorky, but cool with it and funny and she took off the bowtie I was wearing and tied it in her hair. I remember thinking that everything about her was so true. I was also a little drunk so I ended up kissing her. Apparently, that's my thing. Some people smoke when they drink, I kiss girls."

"That makes me feel so wonderful now, thank you," Rachel muttered darkly. Blaine crawled across the couch and knelt in front of her so she had no choice but to stare at him. His hands reached out to cradle her face and he brought his lips down to hers in a kiss very different from the ones they're recently shared. The others had been rushed and hurried, frenzied and sexual. They had left her breathless with the relentless need and intensity. But this one, it was soft and quiet, almost lazy even. His lips were pliable against her own and her knees went weak despite the fact that she was sitting down.

"I promise you," he whispered against her lips, "there is a point to this story and it comes back to you."

She bit her bottom lip as he kissed her cheek before settling against the back of the couch. "Continue," she requested, shifting to lean against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. He wrapped his around her shoulder, one hand weaving through her long hair.

"Michelle came to my house a few days later, coffee in hand, and while I was trying to understand how she could be so chipper at eight in the morning, she just got right down to business and asked why I kissed her. I gave her these cliché stock answers about how I was drunk and I didn't mean to and I'm gay so I'm sorry for misleading her and she just looked at me and said 'stop talking'. The next thing I knew, she was kissing me and I liked it. I truly did and it reminded me of when you and I kissed at that party you had in your basement."

"Oscar room," Rachel corrected.

"Right, Oscar room," he said. "After that, she asked me again, why I had kissed her and I just didn't have an answer for her. I just remember saying 'I'm gay' over and over again. She laughed and I'll always remember this, she said, "so am I, but what does that really mean?'. It just started something in me. It wasn't instantaneous or anything, and I damn near had a full-on identity crisis but Michelle helped me realize that dating someone, being close to someone in a romantic way, that it wasn't about gender for me, it was about the person and the way I feel about who that specific person is.

"She was pretty great through the whole thing, because I had no clue what I was doing. She let me freak out and ask the stupid questions. She'd been through this herself and it's confusing Rach, it really is. Especially if you're like me and never realized how much you relied on your sexuality to define yourself. I'd spent years telling people that was one hundred percent gay. I even said that to you, and I regretted doing that, but to be honest, you scared me. I really liked you, but somehow in my head, liking you meant I went through all the pain and bullying and running away for nothing. So I just shut it out in my head. I never told you how sorry I was for doing that."

"You don't need to apologize," she said, punctuating her thought with a light kiss to his abdomen. "I wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind to be in a relationship then. You probably saved our friendship."

"I still lied to you," he insisted.

"I don't hold it against you, I promise," she reassured him. "but I do have a question for you now. Are you... what are you exactly if you're not gay?"

"Bi,I guess," he answered with a shrug. "I mean, I think I identify as gay more because I tend to notice guys before I do girls. If I were walking down the street and passed this insanely hot Abercrombie model type guy, there's this primary sexual reaction like, 'I want him'. That has nothing to do with who he is or if he's an interesting person at all, it's physical. Then I might pass a girl on the same street and I may have this passing thought that she's beautiful, but it's more like an appreciation of that beauty. Then say I end up meeting both of these people and the guy, as aesthetically pleasing as he is to me, is the most boring or horrid individual on the planet, but the girl is smart and witty. I might fool around with the guy, but the girl is the one I'd want to date, to be with emotionally. She'd be the one I'd rather invest my time in."

"So it just doesn't matter to you at all, if it's a man or a woman?" Rachel asked, looking up at him quizzically, to which he simply shook his head no. A twinge of sadness washed over her and it took her a moment to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from. It had nothing to so with Blaine's new sexual identity, or lack of, or whatever way he wanted to look at. It had more to do with the fact that this was something he had clearly spent a lot of time thinking about and he had never said a single word about it until this moment, despite the fact they'd been in constant contact through the year. "Why didn't I know any of this while it was happening?"

"I told you, I didn't want to worry you with my problems," he said.

"But why do you do that?" she hissed. "You always do that and I've told you so many times, even before I moved away, that you are _not _a problem, Blaine. You're my friend and friends talk about these things; they help each other. You listened to me cry for weeks about my break-up with Finn, even though I was the one to end it but you never once said anything to me about your break-up with Kurt. And now I find out that you made this huge monumental self-discovery nearly a year ago and there was no hint that this was going on. I just don't understand why. Did you think I would think badly of you, or judge you for this?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why didn't you tell me?" she demanded.

"Because I didn't realize what was going on!" he yelled. "I mean, I knew I was dating a girl and I knew what that meant for other people, but I didn't know what that meant for _me._ I didn't talk to anybody about this, okay? I just let it happen. I needed to see what it was before I changed my entire life for nothing again. I didn't want to make the same mistake I'd made with Kurt, where my entire world revolved around one person or one idea or one goddamn label."

He had started pacing about halfway through his tirade, a fleece throw tied around his waist. Her apartment was silent for several minutes before Blaine returned to her, rubbing his hands over his face. He sat on the coffee table, facing her and reached for both of her hands, clasping them in his. "I would have loved to confide in you," he said softly, "but I was a mess Rachel. Yes, I was starting to explore this part of me that I never really acknowledged, but that brought up a lot of other ugly feelings with it. I felt like a fake, a liar. I had to explain to my father, who still doesn't look at me the same way for being gay, that I wasn't as gay as I thought. And he was angry about it; he told me to make up my fucking mind and stop being such a hormonal bitch."

"I could slap him," Rachel grumbled, turning his hands over so she could lace her fingers through his.

"Someday, I think I'll let you," Blaine agreed. "I realized that I had spent so long, trying so hard, to kind of make up for who I am. I don't really know how it started, but even though I was okay with who I thought I was, I felt this constant need to make it okay for everyone else. People at my old school were so uncomfortable with my sexuality, so I moved away to Dalton where they didn't seem to care. I'm a good singer, but I only took the solos people gave to me instead of trying out for them. Even with Kurt, I was the same way and I still feel like that was the reason he left me. I got so tired of it. It was ruining me, trying to be good enough for other people."

"It never pays off," she admitted.

"No, it doesn't," he sighed. "This was something I had to do for myself, by myself. Do you understand?"

She did; she understood that all too well. She'd been there herself, several times in fact, and no matter what advice or counsel she received, it always came down to her in the end. It was how she managed to keep sight of her dreams and how she managed to keep the energy to pursue them despite it being harder than she ever imagined. She knew instinctively these things were as much a part of her as the color of her skin and the beating of her heart; every time she lost sight of them, she betrayed herself. It was one of the reasons she had left Finn in the end, even though it had nearly broken her into a thousand pieces.

"I do," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his. "I just hate that I wasn't there for you when you needed me."

"But you were," Blaine said. "Maybe we didn't talk about me, but you made me laugh. You made me feel connected to something outside of Lima and because of that, I knew I had a chance of making it out okay. You have become the best friend I've ever known and I love you for that. You helped pull me through even if you didn't know it."

She couldn't speak around the lump in her throat. Her eyes welled up with tears and she hurriedly tried to blink them away but they spilled over to her cheeks instead. She brushed them away in embarrassment. "Oh God, please don't cry," Blaine pleaded with her.

"I'm not sad," she said kindly. "It's just that you're my best friend too."

There was so much more that she wanted to say, but the words weren't coming to her, so she merely kissed him instead. It was started soft and slow, a kiss of comfort but it steadily grew into more. He let her take the lead this time and even though it wasn't as frantic as their other encounters, it was invoking all of the same feelings. It was like she imagined a high would feel. Every last atom of her body shook and rose up to match with his and she knew as she pulled him on top of her that she had crossed the line. This wasn't just sex for her anymore; this was intimacy on a level she'd never been to before.

It scared her in the best possible way.

-:-

Rachel couldn't remember who had fallen asleep first, just that they had both collapsed from exhaustion at some point after noon. Her right side was pleasantly numb and she realized it was probably the result of Blaine resting peacefully on her chest, head tucked under her chin, arms slung loosely around her hips. Her legs begged to stretch and her back needed a good crack, but she couldn't bear the thought of moving away from him. Just in case it might disturb him, she was afraid of breathing too loudly. This could easily become one of her favorite moments, she mused, and one she'd be willing to have multiple times.

She found herself studying the fading red lines that crisscrossed over the width of his shoulder blades and down his back. These were hers, her marks on his skin and though she couldn't recall exactly what had forced her to make them , she had a strange sense of smug satisfaction in them. Somehow, she felt like he was truly hers, like she now forever owned a part of him. Regardless whether he had given it, or if she had taken it, it was hers.

Part of her knew she should be panicking; these were not thoughts you had about your best friend, even if you were sleeping with said friend, and especially not if you have only started sleeping with that same friend less than twenty-four hours ago. But these things didn't scare her the way they should. She was afraid of what would happen to her sanity if he decided he never wanted to touch her again. She was afraid of never again feeling as close to him as she did in these moments. Because she couldn't stand to lose him for anything.

"If we just stayed here forever, would that be okay with you?" She felt his whispers more than she heard him. He was still curled up on her breast, eyes closed, looking for all the world like he was still asleep. His lips brushed her skin as he spoke, his voice deep and husky. "Because I just don't think I can move ever again."

"That depends on what you mean by 'here'," she said lightly. "You could probably convince me to nail my apartment door shut-."

"Do you have a hammer?" he requested, sounding very serious.

"But," she continued, "if you mean for us to stay in my bed for the rest of eternity, I think I'll need to shower first."

"I think we can compromise on that," he smirked and quicker than she could have ever excepted, he stood up and scooped her up in his arms carrying her across the room to the powder room. "As long as I get to join you," he commanded, setting her feet back on the ground. "Water conservation, obviously."

"Obviously," she repeated, shaking her head, but pulling him towards her all the same. It wasn't long before steam began to fill the room and they were sliding around her very small shower that hardly had enough room for her alone. The water seemed to rejuvenate them both; the aches in her used muscles began to melt away and Blaine's energy returned in full force.

"So I have another question," Rachel said, lathering shampoo through her long locks. "Is she how you got so good at it?"

"Who?" Blaine asked, drawing shapes on her skin with her body soap.

"Michelle."

"Good at what?" he repeated distractedly, frowning as the running water washed away half of the flower he'd created on her shoulder.

"Sex," Rachel replied bluntly. She was past the point of being coy; for God's sake, she was showering with the man. Her experience was limited to only Finn, but there was no question that she and Blaine had better sex. Maybe it was because the height difference wasn't so awkward, or maybe because her virginity was long gone, but she seemed to fit better with him. His hands curved over her breasts instead of enveloping them. Her hips molded to his and when he held her tight, there would be no space between them because his arms were too long to go around her properly. And he knew where to touch her, where to be gentle, where to use force, when to pull back and when to push her over the edge; things she never realized she was missing in her previous sex life.

A light blush flushed across Blaine's cheeks, busying himself by fumbling with the conditioner top. "I'm not sure what the appropriate response to that is."

"I just mean th-that," she stammered and okay, maybe she still had the decency to be a little awkward about this, but the question had already been asked, "if she kind of taught you how to-"

"Have sex with girls?" he finished for her, eyebrows quirked in amusement.

"I'm just curious about what it was like," she finished, snagging the conditioner bottle from his hands and snapping it open. She was nearly out, but spread a little bit of the scented lotion on the top of his head before working it into the ends of her own hair.

"You wonder what it's like to have sex with girls?" he repeated, his grin twisted into a teasing leer. "Because if you're really curious, I could probably hook that up for you."

"Blaine Anderson!" she gasped. "Oh my God, stop it right now."

"I'm sorry, it was just so random. I'm sorry, truly, I'm sorry. " he laughed and if there had been room in the shower, she could have sworn he would have doubled over from the sheer amount of amusement he seemed to find in the whole conversation. "But if you really want to know, she did kind of coach me at the beginning. But I learned that it's not entirely different. It's like, the angles are different but it's not... it doesn't necessarily fall at opposite ends of the spectrum. And honestly, it's different for whoever you're with. You have to pay attention and learn what your partner likes, listen to them. And then, if you do it right, you end up in the shower talking about all your exes."

-:-

There was only so much almond butter one could eat and by six o'clock, they couldn't stand it anymore. They needed to go out and while it took the better part of another hour to actually get dressed, eventually they made it down the long flight of stairs and walked the ten blocks to their favorite diner in the area. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was affordable with a wide variety of vegan dishes for Rachel to choose from and Blaine was free to order his cheeseburger in peace, though he occasionally let her order for him when she couldn't make up her mind on what she wanted.

"So I'm assuming you're no longer with Michelle," Rachel stated after the waiter took their menus.

"How did we end up talking about me all day long?" Blaine asked, stirring an ice cube into his piping hot coffee.

"By not talking about you all year," she retorted. "This is what happens when you keep secrets darling."

"I'd still much rather hear about you," Blaine insisted.

"Except you know everything about me," Rachel pointed out to me. "You know how I left my first acting class in tears because Rosenbaum told me I had no business performing as Maria. You were the one who talked me through my mid-semester freshman crisis when I threatened to quit and move into your basement. And when I broke up with Finn because I knew I would never again feel the way I did about him as I did in high school, you were the one who said I had done the right thing no matter how wrong it felt."

"Fair enough," Blaine sighed, lounging in the booth with his back propped up against the wall in support. "No, Michelle and I broke up during spring break. It was less than amicable unfortunately. We're friends now and I'm really glad for that but it took us awhile to get there."

A brief memory flashed across her mind of Blaine calling her late one Saturday night in a panic. He'd been extremely upset, on the edge of tears she imagined, and ended up begging her if he could come stay with her for a few days. No, he didn't care that he'd be missing school, he just really needed to see her. She'd been hesitant to say yes, only because she knew he was crazy enough to do it if she came him the slightest bit of permission. So even though he wouldn't tell her what was wrong, she told him he as welcome to visit; he never actually made the trip.

"Was this around the same time you nearly chartered a plane to New York?" she asked quietly.

"That was not my finest hour," he said with a wry chuckle.

"You never told me what happened then either," she observed pointedly.

"Everything happened," he explained, "though it started when Kurt came over to my house and decided to declare his love for me, never mind the fact that we hadn't spoken in months. He had this big speech about how he missed me and it was wrong of him to break up with me just because he lived in a different city. I kept asking him to leave but he wouldn't and I got really angry. This was the first time I'd really seen him since we broke up and it was like all these things I never got to say started pouring out. We ended up screaming at each other and my father finally broke us up. I didn't even realize he was home until he had Kurt by the collar of his coat and was tossing him out our front door. It was the first time I ever felt like my dad was on my side. Which didn't last long since a few days later we had a huge fight about the whole thing, but for a moment, I felt like... like I was important to him."

He was picking at the paper napkin on the table, tearing of the corners into tiny white confetti pieces; this was something she knew he did unconsciously when he was uncomfortable. "I went to Michelle's and told her everything," he said and his hands couldn't stay still. "At first she seemed to understand, but the longer I talked, the more annoyed she seemed to get until finally she asked me why I hadn't just told him I was dating someone else. I tried to explain that Kurt didn't really believe in being bisexual, and that I hadn't even told him that I _was _bi. She thought it would be just the thing to shut him up, but I didn't want to hurt him for the sake of hurting him, which is how Michelle and I started fighting over whether or not I was still in love with Kurt. I wasn't, not exactly, but seeing him again reminded me of the things I did love about him."

"Well your first is bound to do that to you," Rachel said sympathetically, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hands.

"Michelle didn't see it that way I guess," Blaine shrugged. "So that was the end of that. I ended up at home, and this is incredibly embarrassing so you can never repeat this, I just sat in my room for almost a week, crying over country music. Kurt called me a few days later asking if we could meet up somewhere and I just fucking panicked. That's when I called you. I just needed an out, you know? Somewhere I could go and hide away from everything and no one would judge me. And I knew that place was with you."

"But you didn't come," she said, unable to hide the note of hurt in her voice.

"I ended up talking to Kurt instead. It was awkward but we didn't yell at each other. I told him that I wasn't interested in being his boyfriend again, but that maybe we could figure out a way to be friends again and we left it at that. I guess we've managed to repair some of those bridges, but I'm still cautious about him. He really did hurt me Rachel and to this day, I still don't think he understands how much," he said, fiddling with his fork i– the napkin long destroyed – and t was the saddest she had ever seen him. Rachel reached across the table and took his hands in hers, rubbing soft circles into his skin.

"I still couldn't tell him about Michelle," Blaine whispered, "so I never tried to get her back, thinking maybe she was right."

"So Kurt doesn't know any of this?" Rachel asked, flabbergasted when he shook his head no. "Blaine! You have to tell him!"

"It's not his business," he parried defensively, his face the very picture of stubbornness.

"If you two want to be friends at all, he needs to know," Rachel cried, "especially if he's still in love with you."

"If I ever, and right now I feel like this is a big if, get to the point where I think I want to be with Kurt again, I'll tell him," Blaine said, the finality apparent in his voice. "Right now, I'm not interested and I don't feel like he's earned the right to know private things about my life anymore."

"But I have?" Rachel asked, her eyebrows raised in speculation.

"Yes," he told her, eyes shining and unwavering as he gazed at her. It was heavy, intense, and absolutely confusing, yet she felt safe when he looked at her like that. She could have cursed the waiter for bringing their food at that exact moment, but as Blaine turned to say a polite thank you, the spell had been effectively broken and the moment passed for her to say anything in response.

-:-

It was well past midnight when that heart-pounding gaze returned to her as she and Blaine lay in her bed once more. She was half-asleep but his eyes were wide and searching. "Rach?" he whispered, the slight crack in his voice making him sound insecure and vulnerable. She could see this echoed in his eyes and she steeled herself against what she had been expecting to happen earlier that morning. Because now he would tell her that maybe this whole day had been a mistake. It was too weird, too intense, too much, too fast. And he would be right, it was all those things. But unlike him, she would never regret it.

"What are we doing?" he asked. "I mean, really, what is this?"

And there is was, the question that erased their entire fantasy. Reality set in with this question and it almost made her want to cry; but she wouldn't, not over this. "I'm not sure," she whispered back, "but it doesn't have to mean anything you don't want it to."

It was the perfect answer in a way. It didn't force him into a corner, didn't make her sound like a needy child, and it protected their friendship; because no matter how much she loved him - not that she was sure _how _she loved him, only that she did – there was nothing more important than that. She needed to be able to call him at three in the morning because she needed to run lines because she was so nervous about her scene for class. She needed to know that he would hug her when she was upset. She needed to know that he could make her laugh over the stupidest things, that they could have their own jokes, their own stories. She needed to be able to tell her children what having a best friend truly meant. And she needed to be all that for him.

"What do you want it to mean?" he pressed, sitting up. He was twisting the sheet in his hand again.

"I..." her thoughts trailed off. She didn't have a real answer except the one she'd been repeating to herself all day. "I don't want it to mean that we aren't going to be friends anymore."

Blaine's entire body froze, it seemed like. He could have been a photograph or a statue for all the movement he made and suddenly she _was _panicking. Tears spilled over her cheeks before she could stop them and she buried her face in her pillow before he could see them. She couldn't look at him in fear that they had just ruined everything, that _she _had just ruined everything. The sheets rustled in a frenzy and suddenly he was on top of her, arms wrapped around her waist in clinging embrace.

"Never say that again," he croaked. "Please, never say that again."

They stayed like that until the sun came up and even though they still had no idea what they'd gotten themselves into, had no idea what it could potentially evolve into, or if they would collapse in on themselves like a house of cards, right then, they were together. They whispered assurances that they would always be together, in one fashion or another. Take it or leave it, that was enough.

* * *

><p><em>I write, you read, you review, I write more because is a chapter story. <em>


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><em><strong>BLAINE<strong>_  
>The next six weeks went by in a kind of stop motion blur. There were days he couldn't tell the end from the beginning; if he had stayed up too late or woken up far too early. Hours turned into days turned into weeks. But then there were some moments of which he could remember every detail, like the way her yellow sundress clung to her skin when they'd been caught in an unexpected downpour walking back from the movie theater. The way her fingers would curl under the collar of his shirt, the way she said his name in a different way every single time, and especially the way her eyelashes would flutter with exhaustion, brushing against his jaw. His heart would race and skip a beat, shaking his breath loose from his lungs; maybe it was just that suspended bliss that came with discovering someone new, and maybe it was slightly terrifying the way she made him feel, but at least it was his.<p>

They resisted putting a label on what they were doing; it was unspoken between them, the line they knew they had crossed, but they weren't willing to turn back. At least not yet. If anyone thought they were close before, they were down right inseparable now. He spent more nights with Rachel than he did at his dorm at NYU and because of this, he still hadn't officially met his roommate, despite the fact school had been in session more than two weeks already. She had cleaned out a bottom drawer for a few of his clothes since he left them at her place so often. He had taken the key she'd hidden in the door frame and carried it around in his pocket with the rest.

For all intents and purposes, anyone would say they were dating. That is, if anyone knew. The advantage to having a secret relationship in a city as big as New York was that you rarely saw anyone who would recognize you. Their affair, as she called it, was relatively safe from discovery. Even more than that though, it didn't seem to Blaine that they did anything too out of the ordinary. Yes, in private, they were sleeping together, which was new for them, but in public, they were the same. They went to the same places, they laughed at the same jokes, they talked about anything and everything, just as they'd done before. Adding sex into the equation should have made everything complicated, but it just... didn't. He wondered if they were simply being naïve, but she would smile at him the same way she always did and he knew everything was as it should be.

They were friends first, lovers second, and somehow that seemed to make all the difference.

"Did you decide on a color yet?" he asked, coming up behind Rachel as she looked through paint swatches. She had a bundle of soft pinks in one hand, golds and yellows in the other and was frowning at all of them. Ever since she decided to liven up her apartment last week, they'd been coming to the paint store rifling through all the color options. She'd ultimately decided against blues and greens, anything on the cool side of the spectrum, even though she had read they had a calming effect on people with high-maintenance tendencies. Blaine had liked the reds, but she insisted that was because it was scientifically proven to make men think of sex, not because it was a good color-scheme.

"I think so?" she said, nibbling on her bottom lip. "I can't decide if this pink is too pale, or if this gold is too bright."

Blaine glanced at the palates she was studying and instantly pulled the pink out or her hands. "You don't want that one," he insisted, placing it back in the rack. "You're going to wake up and realize you painted your walls the color of expired Pepto-Bismol."

Rachel rolled her eyes, but didn't reach to take the swatch back. Instead she turned her attention back to the card still left in her hands and after another minute of thought, she pointed at the two-by-two square and triumphantly proclaimed, "this is the one". She hummed happily as they carried the four gallons back to her place, even keeping it up as they lugged the cans up ten flights of stairs that left them both slightly winded. She didn't stop until he pried open the first can.

"Do you think it looks like a highlighter?" she questioned, her face crinkled in consternation.

"I think it'll look different on the wall," Blaine answered, pouring it into tray. It was really bright, he thought, but the label called it 'maize' – whatever they hell that meant – and it was supposed to come out to a pale, muted, gold. "It'll be fine."

"But what if it dries and my room glows in the dark?" Rachel fretted.

"Then you'll save a lot of money on electricity," Blaine laughed, dipping his fingers into the wet liquid. "We could always test it out before we paint the whole room."

"That's a good idea," she said with a nod. "Maybe a spot behind the refrigerator or somewhere not very noticeable."

The idea struck him out of nowhere, but as soon as it grabbed hold of him, there was no letting it go. He could feel the mischievous grin stretch across his face as he dipped his hand in the paint again, letting it coat all the way up to his wrist. "I had a different idea, to be honest," he said, lunging towards her and catching her bare arm and suddenly, from her elbow to her shoulder, she was covered in the yellow paint. She shrieked in surprise and started wiping at her arm. The paint smeared onto her hands and as she stood there staring at him with her mouth agape, he started laughing.

"It's a good color for you," Blaine chuckled, pulling her waist towards him with his golden hand, splattering paint on her gray tank top. There was a slight lift to the corners of her mouth and a quirk to her eyebrows as he drew a line of yellow down the bridge of her nose, then across her cheeks and then a star on the side of her neck.

"Let's see how it looks on you," she retorted with a smirk and slapped the side of his head with her paint covered hand, grinding it into his hair. It dribbled down his ear as she wriggled away from his grasp, scooping up a puddle of paint into her hands and flung it at him like she were splashing water. His entire right side was spattered with highlighter yellow, clinging through his clothing, dripping down into his shoes and between his toes. She laughed heartily as she said "you look good as a blonde."

It was a good thing they had put the plastic down before opening the paint, because the majority of the gallon of paint ended up in puddles, or streaks after they ran slid clumsily through them, or on their own persons. It was how, after twenty minutes of chasing each other through the apartment, they crashed onto the floor, thoroughly soaked in the yellow paint. Blaine's hair was standing on end as it dried in clumps of flaky gold and if there was an inch of Rachel that wasn't covered in paint, he couldn't find it.

There was a strand of her stuck to her cheek and as he brushed it away, it drew a slight swirl around the corner of her eyes and it struck him how similar the color of paint she'd chosen matched the golden hues that lurked behind her deeply chocolate tones. It was the little things like this that got to him; little discoveries, little mysteries, little moments that made him want to kiss her. As his lips met hers, her knees wrapped around his waist and he felt as if she were pulling him into her very skin, or that he was falling in. His hands gripped her, fingers laced together, and he held her pinned to the ground as if she were his anchor.

She rolled her hips into his and he could have taken her then and there if not for the sudden knock at her door. It startled them both, groaning as they looked towards the offending sound. He silently willed whoever it was to go away, but a rhythm of three tune-less notes echoed through the room instead. "Don't answer it," he whined, burying his head in her chest as the rhythm started again. She nodded as if she were thinking the same thing, but what they heard next forced them apart like an electric current had surged through them.

It was Kurt's voice that was shouting "Rachel!" through the door excitedly. They jumped up and instinctively put at least six feet of distance between them. Rachel was attempting to smooth down her clothing, despite the awkward folds the drying paint had put in them and there was no way even she could manage to look socially acceptable in that state; and he was no better off. Never mind the fact that he was standing bare foot in a puddle of maize tinted goo, his nerves were shooting off sparks from the intrusion, leaving him feeling very frazzled and embarrassed, as if he had been doing something wrong.

Until this moment, however, he could mentally separate Kurt from Rachel. Their schedules were vastly different, so while they saw each other at school, Blaine rarely saw Kurt with Rachel outside of classes and with Blaine attending an entirely different school, he only saw Kurt when he made the effort to. Which admittedly, wasn't more than once a week, if even that. He almost felt guilty, which was infuriating in a way, that Kurt could still do that to him. They hadn't been together in almost a year, and even though they were just starting to get back on good terms, they were only barely friends. It shouldn't matter to him what Kurt thought about the things he did, or the people he did them with for that matter. But one of the reasons Rachel was so hesitant to make anything official was because of Kurt and despite everything they'd been though, Blaine still didn't feel the need to purposely hurt him.

Rachel looked over at him, as if questioning what to do. He gave her a tight nod and she crossed the room towards the door, desperately attempting to smooth down her hair. It irked him a little, like she was trying to erase him and it was truly the first time he felt like they were an actual secret. It was like he was something to be hidden away, and he knew it was illogical, that this was something he agreed to, it didn't make him feel any better about the flash of jealousy that surged through him or the dim anger that followed it. It wasn't her fault, he thought as she swung open the door, but rather it was his for letting himself fall into that position again.

"Kurt!" she announced in a light, airy voice.

"Oh God, finally!" Kurt's words fell out in an excited jumble, thrusting a sheet of paper in Rachel's face. "I was leaving campus and they were posting these on all the bulletin boards. They're putting on_Cabaret _for the winter fundraiser, Rachel. _Cabaret! _I already added your name to the audition sheet and why are you covered in lemon meringue pie?"

"_Lemon pie?" _Rachel choked and the look of sheer horror on her face made all of Blaine's earlier feelings evaporate into a fresh round of laughter. She whirled around and glared at him, which only caused him to laugh so hard that he had to sit down on the floor, clutching his stomach.

"It's supposed to be maize," Blaine gasped between breaths, which promptly earned him a swift kick in the shin from Rachel.

"You're covered in it too!" Kurt observed, looking quickly around the room before adding, "in fact, there's not much in this apartment that's _not _covered in it."

"We're painting," Rachel pouted.

"With that color?" Kurt laughed as well. "Oh honey, what were you thinking?"

"I hate you both," Rachel proclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and marching towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. Blaine and Kurt both continued to chuckle, but it was quickly died down as they both realized that, by Rachel's storming out, they had been left alone in the room. The last time Blaine had truly been alone with Kurt was the fight they'd had at his house last spring. Even since he'd moved to New York, every time they saw each other, it was with a group of people or in a very public place. In situations like that, he could be friendly and cordial, but as distant as he wanted to be. Like this, there was no way to circumvent the awkwardness. He dragged a fresh can of paint to him and busied himself with trying to pop the top open, determined to at least appear at ease.

"How are you Blaine?" Kurt asked, his voice slightly strained. Blaine wanted to look up at him, to see if he could decipher Kurt's emotions as easily as he used to; Kurt had told him once he was the only one besides his father who ever learned to really look at him, but he could only bring himself to stare at Kurt's shoes.

"I'm okay," he whispered, knowing it was a stock answer but there wasn't much else he could say. "School is getting tough."

"Were you able to get that music elective you wanted?"

Blaine couldn't help but smile a bit. "Yeah, I did," he said as the paint lid finally gave way. "Someone dropped out in the first week and I was next on the list. It's more challenging than I thought it would be."

"Already? It's only the third week of classes," Kurt said, "and you've helped write songs for New Directions to sing at Nationals for the last two years. I thought song-writing would be a breeze for you."

"I know," Blaine agreed. "I thought I knew what I was getting into with this, but according to my professor, this happens all the time. Kids come in with lyrics but have no idea how to construct a song. It's really informative, just completely different than I thought it would be."

"Well I'm sure you'll do wonderfully with it regardless," Kurt insisted, and the confidence in his voice made Blaine finally look up at him. He allowed himself to smile, ignoring the way Kurt's ever-blue eyes lit up just slightly, the shy curl in his lips, the light blush that crept across his neck. He knew what these meant; it was far from the first time Kurt had looked at him like this. Hell, there was a time when Blaine lived for this moment. But this wasn't that time. They weren't those people, no matter how much Kurt seemed to want to be again. But none of that meant Blaine didn't have a slight twinge of phantom pain over it.

"So what's this about Cabaret?" Rachel interrupted, drying her freshly wet hair with a towel as she exited the bathroom. He hadn't even heard the shower run, but she couldn't have done more than simply rinse off as there were still flakes of paint dotting her skin like golden dust. It gave off an illusion of radiance and as she chattered animatedly with Kurt, it overtook her entire being. She literally lit up with exhilaration and it was absolutely intoxicating to watch. It was just an intrinsic part of her, this light, and it carried over into everything she did and, he wondered, to the people she cared about. Because standing next to her, Kurt held that light too. Perhaps he always had, and Blaine had just forgotten, but for a moment, Kurt wasn't the boy would had ripped his heart to shreds. He was the boy who hesitated to take his hand on the staircase at Dalton. He was the first person to tell him he was proud of him.

And it was this boy he saw standing next to Rachel. His Rachel, the one he knew on every level, who never let him down. He could look at her and see every bit of her like it was its own miracle, but he could see her as a whole. He didn't have to divide her in his mind like did Kurt because no matter what, Rachel always had Blaine's back and he had come to realize how very important that was to him. Support for him, confidence in him when he didn't have it for himself, understanding even when he did the wrongs things; Rachel held these things for him. He honestly couldn't say he could profess the same about Kurt, and Blaine was a little disgusted with himself for comparing them, but as much as they differed, they were also the same. The parallels made his head hurt.

Blaine had nearly finished lining all the doors and windows with tape when Kurt and Rachel's finally quieted down. He could feel their eyes on his back as he worked and he felt responsible for the sudden silence that settled over the disjointed group. If he weren't here, he was sure Kurt would end up staying the night with Rachel as they planned audition outfits, decided what she should sing, practice her monologues. They could be friends without wondering how he felt about it – he knew them both well enough to know without a doubt this was what they were thinking – and he hated it.

"I guess I better get going," Kurt said with a sigh, gathering up his satchel and slinging it around his shoulders. "You guys have a lot to do if you're going to paint this entire apartment tonight."

"You don't have to leave," Rachel said and even to Blaine's ears, she wasn't convincing. She sounded too sad, too hesitant, as if she really meant to say _I don't want to ask you to leave, but for Blaine's benefit, I will. _It wasn't what he wanted, not at all. He would never force Rachel to give up her friendship with Kurt, even if she did it unintentionally; he was too important to her and Rachel was important to Kurt.

"Hey Kurt," Blaine called as the boy started turning the doorknob. "Why don't you grab a brush and join us?"

The look of shock on Kurt's face was almost as rewarding as the absolutely blazing smile Blaine received from Rachel. Elation dances across her features, along with a hidden sigh of relief as she mouthed a small "thank you" towards him before turning back to Kurt standing frozen in the door frame.

"Yes, please!" she chirped, clapping her hands together. "We need all the help we can get."

"Are you sure?" Kurt asked, looking past Rachel towards Blaine, leaving all his real questions unvoiced. _Do you want me here? Are we actually friends again? Does this mean what I want it to mean?_

"Stay," Blaine nodded.

"Fine," Kurt relented with a smile. "But this is the new Alexander McQueen so the paint is going on the walls children, and not on each other."

He laughed along with Rachel and they quickly settled into a well-oiled routine. Rachel carefully painted around the edges of the trim with a wide brush while Blaine used the rollers on the wall and Kurt touching up the spot he couldn't quite reach towards the ceiling. Kurt and Rachel sang through the entire song book of Wicked, twice, and Blaine jumped in on the parts he knew. It was free-spirited and young and Blaine missed this. Moments like this were the ones he often remembered from their life in Lima, when they would lock themselves away from the rest of the world because the three of them, that's all they needed. They managed to finish about two-thirds of her apartment before Rachel disappeared to talk to her dad for their weekly phone call. Kurt continued humming as he painted and Blaine found himself harmonizing with ease.

"I'm glad you decided to do this," Blaine admitted as they moved the television so they could paint the wall behind it. "It feels good to hang out like this again. The three of us."

"To be honest," Kurt said, "I wouldn't have stayed unless you asked."

"You don't have to avoid me; you know that right?" Blaine sighed.

"Well it feels like that's what you're doing with me," Kurt countered. "To put it in terms Blaine Anderson will understand, you've been very hot n' cold with me since you moved to New York. Of course, I don't blame you. It's just confusing when one minute you're hugging me at the airport and then it's three weeks before we even glance at each other. You tell me you want to try being friends again, but we don't do anything friends do."

"Well that's because, when we do, you go around telling everyone it was a date," Blaine laughed sharply.

"That was one time, and I only said that to Rachel," Kurt replied.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Blaine said and he could have kicked himself for how automatic and second-nature it was but he just shook it off as best he could. "It's just different now. We go to different schools again and we're busy."

"But you find time to paint Rachel's apartment," Kurt pointed out, dropping his paint roller into the tray and crossing his arms across his chest.

"Rachel is a friend," Blaine answered as evenly as he could, but he could feel the anger building beneath his chest.

"And as we've established, I am not," Kurt cried.

"What do you want me to say Kurt?" he snapped and it took all his strength to keep from flat out yelling. "Maybe we're not friends. Maybe we can't be friends. All I know is I'm trying and you're making this a hell of a lot harder than it needs to be. God, just when I start to think I've been missing you, you have to prove me wrong."

Kurt's eyes widened once again in surprise. "What?" he whispered, arms falling to his side as he took a step closer to Blaine.

"Nothing," Blaine groaned and concentrated more than it was necessary on the wall in front of him. "It doesn't matter."

"You said you missed me," Kurt repeated. "That matters to me."

"I didn't mean it the way you want me to," Blaine muttered.

"Then explain it to me," Kurt pleased and his eyes were soft and sincere, vulnerable. How many times had this face caused Blaine to spill his deepest secrets? "Please, Blaine."

Blaine tried to run his fingers through his hair, forgetting that it had practically dried into a cement block from all the paint still in there. It was his oldest nervous habit; any time he got agitated, his hands started working on their own accord. It was one of the reasons he had taken up boxing as it gave his anxious hands an outlet. "I just meant that sometimes I miss you. Not dating you, just you. Because we_were _friends once, and now I just don't know. Rachel and I managed to stay friends even after..." The thought came to a halting stop as he realized his rambling had taken him further than he expected. This was precisely what he and Rachel agreed to not talk about with out people and especially not with Kurt.

"After you and Rachel what?" Kurt queried but was only met with stony silence in return.

"It doesn't matter," Blaine muttered once again.

"You keep saying that!" Kurt yelled. "But clearly it does matter and whatever it is, you're using it to torture me."

"Not everything is about you!" Blaine screamed back, his fists balling up next to his side. He felt the tremors travel up his back and it was suddenly as if he'd never left Lima and he was still at his old house, arguing with Kurt while blinking back tears. He would not revert back to that boy, he would not give into this and it was Rachel who became his saving grace as she picked that exact moment to walk through her front door.

"I think I'm going to order dinner," she proclaimed, pretending not to notice the stand off between the two boys. "Kurt, would you mind cleaning up while I show Blaine the menu to that Thai place we like? I know already know what you want."

Rachel placed her hand securely around his bicep and pulled him away towards the kitchen while Kurt shuffled off towards the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, her hand moved from his arm to his chest and her free hand wrapped itself around his still clenched fist. Her lips were at his neck, kissing him quickly and whispering in his ear, "it's okay, Blaine."

"It's not okay," he growled darkly even though he felt slightly more relaxed by her touch.

"It will be," she amended. "Just calm down, okay? I'm here now."

"Can we just tell him?" Blaine groaned, burying his head in her hair.

"I really don't think this is the time Blaine," Rachel whispered. "If we tell him now, he won't take it seriously. He'll feel like you're doing it to hurt him. He doesn't even know you're not gay."

"Then I'll tell him that too!" Blaine insisted. "I'll tell him everything if it means he'll shut his damn mouth for more than two minutes."

"Blaine, you're angry," she said, trying to reason with him. "This isn't how you want to have this discussion with him, you know it isn't."

"You're just trying to protect him," Blaine hissed, his anger rising again as he stepped away from her and gripped the counter edges.

"I'm trying to protect you!" Rachel argued. "And yes, him too and also myself. God, Blaine we've talked about this, about how we wanted to be sure about it and make sure he would understand it."

"See, now I'm confused," Blaine bit back. "Are we keeping this a secret because of us, or because of Kurt? Because I agreed to keeping this casual until we figured out if this would change anything between us – which, by the way, I don't think it has because the past few weeks have been pretty damn good up until right now."

"Please don't take this out on me," she whispered in such a small voice it made his heart ache. It had been so long since her heard her sound that way; it was reserved for her lowest moments – the ones where she felt helpless, defenseless, worthless – and he literally hated himself for bringing that back into her life, for putting her back into that dreaded place. He wasn't supposed to do that to her, he was supposed to be the one who kept her from feeling that, who reminded her she was perfect.

He pulled her close, cradling her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly, his anger ebbing away as she melted into his embrace. "I know you're right, okay? I just... I need to walk this off. I'll come back, I promise, I just need to walk this off."

"I'll call our order ahead if you'll go pick it up," she suggested as he kissed the crown of her head, then leaned over her to place a small kiss on her cheek which he promptly covered with his hand; they would use it later.

He was out the door before Kurt even came out of the bathroom., trying not to slam the door behind him but he did anyway. The temperature had dropped and he had the vague inkling of going back for the jacket his kept in Rachel's closet, but there was no way he was going all the way back up there just yet. He just needed a little distance, a little space, because being around Kurt was claustrophobic and it clouded his thoughts like the darkening sky. Usually it was Rachel who he turned to, who made it better – and to be fair, she had – but Kurt was there with her and it was like he'd taken over Blaine's only place of refuge. So he was stuck with the streets of New York.

At some point he had started running because when he finally made it to the restaurant, his breaths were coming in noiseless pants. There was a stitch in his side, tugging and pulling with every gasp but the keen pain that came with it served its purpose. He was calm, settled. Clear, even. He knew that Rachel had been right to put her foot down. He knew he was wrong to take his frustration out on her. He knew it was his fault he left Kurt get to him, no matter if that was his intention or not. He knew he wasn't ready to confide in Kurt the things he confided in Rachel, not if they couldn't have a simple conversation without screaming at each other. There was no way Kurt would accept him and Rachel, not when they were on such shaky ground. And even more than that, he knew Kurt would take it out on Rachel instead of him. This would cost her one of her deepest friendships and the conclusion he'd had early in the day came back to him: he would never want that for her.

He made an extra stop on his walk back from the Thai place and started his way back to Rachel's, each step gaining strength and confidence to the point that he felt like himself again by the time he pushed her door open. He wasn't even annoyed when he realized Kurt was still there; apparently they had finished all the painting while he was gone. Rachel bounced off the couch immediately, grabbing one of the plastic bags from his hands and placed it on the counter in her new brightly colored kitchen.

"You were gone a long time," she said with a hint of worry, to which he smiled and produced a brown paper bag he'd hidden in one of the bags.

"I passed that bakery you like on the way," he explained as he pulled a simple white box out of the bag. "They had these in the window."

She squealed in delight and grabbed the carton from him, nearly ripping open the top as she opened them. "Are these the ones they make with the applesauce?" she giggled.

"Of course!" he laughed, throwing his hand over his heart as if she'd wounded him. "Blueberry applesauce muffins, completely vegan."

She kissed him on the cheek, a completely normal act to Kurt who was watching the exchange, but to him, it meant much more. It meant she wasn't angry with him, that she'd forgiven him before he even asked, that she was on his side. It was how he was able to spend the rest of the evening in a relative state of contentment as she nestled between him and Kurt on the couch, singing along with Funny Girl under his breath so he could still hear her.

He reached for her hand, fingers brushing against her skin softly to garner her attention before curling around her overturned palm. She gazed at him out of the corner of her eye; it was soft and kind. He mouthed a quick, "I'm sorry" to her and she merely squeezed his hand and smiled at him. He moved his hand away, but she caught it in hers and didn't let go. It was almost too risky, he knew, for if Kurt noticed, he might ask questions. Even though they'd held hands before, it wasn't often like this, fingers intertwined and wrists locked together.

"You know," Kurt mused out loud after the credits on the movie rolled, "this color really isn't so bad. It looks different on the wall."

"I told you," Blaine yawned, hand still in Rachel's.

"I still think you could so with an accent color," Kurt nodded, then motioned to her wall with a sweeping motion, drawing a soft wave in the air. "Like a sunset orange, maybe. Just to bring a few details in."

"I think that would be beautiful," Rachel agreed, throwing her free arm around Kurt's shoulders, "but right now, I feel like this is perfect."

Blaine couldn't help but feel like she was talking about them; all of them together. Him, her, and Kurt. This was what she saw when she pictured her perfect life. He had a vision of them, so very similar to this, except he and Kurt weren't at odds. They were okay, they were friends even. They would have to be and he would do it for her. Because that's what she wanted, what she needed, and if he were honest, it was what he needed too.

-:-

"This is a disaster!" Rachel shrieked, flinging herself on her bed where Blaine was currently stretched out on his back, holding the political science text over his head as he read. He'd been there for almost three hours waiting for her to get back from her audition at the school, which she insisted he wasn't allowed to come see for himself. He would have gone anyway and sat quietly in the back except his first big exam of the year was happening the very next day. He thought he'd been used to a tough curriculum thanks to his years at Dalton but his time at McKinely seemed to have diluted his study skills. Which was how he ended up on her bed, surrounded by notebooks and flash cards as he waited for her to come home.

"What is?" Blaine snapped the book closed and rolled over on his side. Rachel had buried her head in a pillow, her dramatic moans nothing more than a muffle garble of sounds. He tried to nudge her into sitting up, but she was far more stubborn than he so he resigned himself to rubbing circles through her thin blouse. "Come on, Rach, what's the disaster?"

With a huff she turned over and glared at the ceiling. "Rosenbaum is spearheading the musical and is in charge of auditions," she groaned.

It took him a moment to place the name, but when he did, Blaine couldn't blame Rachel for her panicked state. "He's your drama teacher from last year right? The one would called you less than mediocre."

"Yes, and the same one who told me he would have never cast me in one of his productions," Rachel affirmed. "He was a casting director for two decades Blaine, and if he has any say in the casting decisions for Cabaret, I might as well have tried out for a chair. Except even then he would say I wasn't wooden enough and demand an emergency recast in favor of a block of firewood."

It really wouldn't earn him any favor to laugh and thankfully she was too busy screaming into the pillow again to notice his grin. "But you did try out for Sally right?" he asked.

"Of course I did," she said impatiently. "I'm not going to let one sad little man dictate the rest of my stage career at NYADA. But I'm not going to get the part. I know I'm not. I'll be lucky to get a spot in the ensemble now, if I get anything at all."

"I'm sure you did amazing," Blaine said reassuringly. "There's no one better than you, even at that school."

"You're very sweet," Rachel sighed with a small smile, kissing him briefly on the lips, "but you're also wrong. NYADA is ultra-exclusive as you very well know and there are many upperclassmen who have been studying and training longer than I have. Besides, it's not just the students I have to compete against, it's the public as well."

"What do you mean?"

"Apparently Kurt was wildly misinformed on the circumstances of this play," Rachel said with a shrug as she sat up to lean against the headboard. "We are hosting the production as part of our fundraiser, but it's a joint venture with a few of the local theater companies in the area. The administrators or whoever is in charge of these things wanted to show how the practical application of training in the arts has the potential to lead to practical and realistic jobs in the future. Not that we're not reminded every day that this is an impractical career, but for the sake of school funding, they want to pretend like they're training the newest and brightest stars."

"Which is true, in your case," Blaine interjected.

"Yes, well, we can't deny that," Rachel blushed as she rolled her eyes, though he knew full well she believed her words as much as his. "Regardless, the cast is going to be a mixture of students and actors within the companies. So not only am I competing against my fellow classmates, I have to be the better choice over professional actors as well."

"That hardly seems fair," he stated, picking up a random pile of flashcards and started flipping through them, laying against her legs. "There's clearly a difference in advantage."

"I think they've promised a certain amount of roles to the students, and a certain amount to the rest," she explained. "I mean, they can't do a fundraiser for the school without involving the school in some integral way."

"When does the callback list go up?" he queried, frowning at the card in front of him before throwing it onto the floor and moving on to the next one.

"That's wrong," Rachel pointed at the answer he'd scrawled on the back of his notes. She pulled the offending card from his hand and corrected it before handing it back to him; he had to admit, it made much more sense than his original response. "I don't think there will be callbacks. Rosenbaum is nothing if not opinionated. If I know him, he'd already decided on the cast as soon as auditions wrapped up. And if I know him, my name isn't anywhere on it."

"I've listened to you practice for the last two weeks," Blaine chuckled. "You're going to be in this show; I'd put good money on it."

"Except you're broke," Rachel teased, dodging the flimsy strip of cardstock he flung at her in retaliation.

"My _point_," he stressed as he moved to the edge of the bed to retrieve a new notebook, "is that there's no way you're not going to be in this show and if I had any money at all, I would put it all on Rachel Berry cast in the role of Sally Bowles."

He hadn't even realized she had moved until she was pressed against his back, arms slung fiercely around his chest as she nuzzled into his neck, peppering miniscule kisses along the edge of his jaw. "Thank you," she whispered and he couldn't tell if it was the feel of her lips pressed against his skin or the pure elation and gratitude in her voice that made him feel like he was melting, just that she always seemed to have the most surprising effect on him.

"I'm nervous now," Rachel admitted, resting her chin in the crook of his shoulder.

"Don't be," he said with a soft kiss to her temple. "I'll go with you when they post the results."

"You'll probably have classes," she observed, worrying her bottom lip, wincing when she bit down too hard.

"I'll skip them," he insisted before leaning in with a gentle kiss as he covered her injured lip with his own.

-:-

He got Rachel's text a few days later only minutes after his last class had ended and promptly ran across campus, only stopping by his dorm room to throw his backpack through the door, startling his roommate. It wasn't until he was on the bus that he realized in his focus on getting there he hadn't responded to her and quickly tapped _"wait for me" _on the keypad. Barely fifteen seconds back before her reply came: "_There's no way I could do this without you"._

Blaine sat back in his seat with a dumb smile on his face as he read the message. Even though she still insisted she wasn't getting a part, insisted that Rosenbaum hated her too much, insisted that she had been off-pitch anyway, it didn't stop her from dreaming. She started memorizing lines while he studied. She hummed the melodies and made up choreography to practice and with every day that passed, her optimism grew. It was one of the things he liked most about her; the ability to press forward when things started to get tough. Obstacles were hers to break through, not to run from. It was inspiring to him, in a way, because there were some days he still felt like he was running.

He had come to New York for several reasons, but the biggest one was leaving his old life behind. There were a lot of regrets in his life, things he wasn't sure he would ever really be at peace with. Caving into the pressure and leaving his school in favor of Dalton had been a good choice, a safe choice, but even now he wasn't convinced it was the right choice. And as tenuous his relationship had been with his father before, it had never been the same after Blaine asked to transfer; it was if his father hated his cowardice as much as he hated him being gay. But in New York, he didn't have to run or hide and he could be a stronger, prouder person. He could be someone with conviction, with purpose and he felt that way when he was with Rachel.

He could forgive himself when he was with her, and because of that, he could forgive so many other things. Among them, he was slowly recognizing, was Kurt. Maybe it was his silent resolution to rebuild their friendship for Rachel's sake, but he had started making more of an effort towards the older boy. They started meeting for coffee semi-regularly and Blaine began answering his texts and he was starting to remember that before they had been a couple, Blaine had really liked Kurt as a friend. He liked his sense of humor and his sharp wit and it was forever endearing how that he could manage to be completely oblivious at the same time. He didn't always show it and it was easy for Blaine to forget, but Kurt had a kind heart when it came to the people he cared about.

He could see that especially when he was with Rachel. Being at NYADA had allowed Kurt to see Rachel as an ally more than a competitor and in a school as elitist as theirs, that extra pair of shoulders to lean on was something they both needed. Kurt supported Rachel as much as she supported him and even though Blaine had nothing to do with their friendship, he felt proud when he saw them together. They were the friends they always wanted to be in high school.

His hands were clammy as he got off the bus. Even though he'd spent the last few days convincing her she was the obvious choice, he was nervous for her. If she didn't get a part in the play, she would take it in stride, but he knew it would gnaw at her for weeks. She'd be just a little bit sadder, a little bit discouraged and he didn't want that for her. Which was why, when he spotted both her and Kurt across the courtyard, he plastered on his best smile and made his way towards the steps they had claimed for themselves.

"Are you sure the list is going up _today_?" Rachel groaned, her head on Kurt's shoulder as he patted her gently on the back.

"I'm absolutely sure I saw it printing when I walked past his office," Kurt said.

"You mean when you spied on him," Rachel accused.

"I don't _spy_," Kurt drawled. "I'm simply very observant when I lurk."

"You spy," Blaine laughed, taking his seat next to Rachel and shooting a friendly smile in Kurt's direction.

Rachel disentangled herself from Kurt and latched immediately onto Blaine, arms around his waist. "You're not nervous, are you?" Blaine laughed, rubbing her arm gently as she burrowed into his chest even more. "I told you, you've got this in the bag."

"Don't even lie to me Blaine Anderson," Rachel moaned. "It's your fault I'm like this in the first place. If you had just let me wallow in inferiority and convince myself that I didn't have a shot in the dark of being in this play, I wouldn't be the mess that I am right now and it is all your fault."

"Surely that would have been kinder to all of us," Kurt quipped and Rachel responded with light smack to his arm. His flinch was grossly over-exaggerated but it made her laugh and she sat up straight between the two boys. Her hand reached for his and it was the most natural thing to let her fingers fall between his and hold them tight.

Kurt made a sudden movement, almost as if he were frightened and his fingers sank into Rachel's arm in such a vice Blaine was sure he would leave bruises. "There he is Rachel," Kurt whispered, pointing to a lithe man who was quite literally strutting down the outdoor corridor and in his hands was a handful of papers.

"Oh God, I can't look," Rachel cried, her head once again nuzzled into Blaine's chest as the man he assumed was Rosenbaum tacked up several sheets of yellow papers. He looked over at the tiny brunette in Blaine's arms and there was a slight quirk in his lips that Blaine wasn't sure he liked. He wasn't sure what it meant – if it was intended to be mocking or genuine – but he was suddenly just as nervous as she was, practically shaking. His grip tightened on her hand.

"I'll look," Kurt gulped, standing up and smoothing down the front of his jacket.

"No wait!" Rachel yelled, grabbing the sleeve of Kurt's jacket and yanking him backwards. "You can't just march up to the board and look at it. I'll know what it says before you even make it back here to tell me. You'll either get excited or sad and I just can't deal with seeing all that before you tell me."

"Well what do you propose we do then Rachel?" Kurt asked.

"Let's just all go over there," Blaine suggested, tugging Rachel to her feet as he spoke. "We'll all look at it together, like we promised."

"Yes, exactly like we promised," Kurt agreed, pulling Rachel into a tight side-hug as he and Blaine led her towards the ominous bulletin board. Rachel hadn't once let go of his hand and he was starting to lose feeling on the left side of his palm, but he was sure he was gripping her hand just as tightly, if not more. She caught his eye and her smile wavered, belying the pure panic behind her facade and he wanted nothing more than to convince her everything would turn out for the best. All he could do was look at the single sheet of paper flapping in the slight breeze. He searched for her name, starting from the bottom and the further he made his way up the list, the better he felt and finally, finally he saw it in the right hand column, RACHEL BERRY and just to the left of her capitalized name in bold, it said **"Sally Bowles".**

"Oh my God," he heard Kurt breath next to him and then with an excited squeal, he turned to Rachel was was simply staring at her name printed on the paper, wide-eyed and in shock. "Rachel! You did it!"

"Rach!" Blaine laughed, sweeping her up into his arms. He didn't even care if anyone thought it was strange or out of the ordinary. Her manic laughter filled the air as it seemed to sink in. She had gotten the part. She was going to star in her school's musical as a first-semester sophomore and he couldn't have been more proud of her in that moment if he tried. He set her down on her feet but she merely clung to him, rocking them back and forth in a circle as a stream of excited babble rushed from her lips and he couldn't resist the temptation. He swept her forward and kissed her. It was only on the cheek, really more towards the corner of her mouth, but sent a charge through him nonetheless. And that look on her face, that stunned breathless look that he still wasn't used to no matter how many times he'd seen it in bed, spread over her features and he felt the world fall away around him.

"This can't be right," Kurt muttered, not paying the two of them any attention but it certainly ripped Rachel's away from Blaine. Kurt was frowning at the page and grumbling to himself as he started frantically flipping through the other pages of minor cast and crew.

"What is it?" Rachel choked, pushing him out of the way. "Was I double cast? Is it a mistake? Did-?" Her words froze as her jaw dropped and she came to a screeching halt. Her finger lingered on the page, poised over the column labeled "choreography" and just to to right, Blaine read another familiar and completely unexpected name:

JESSE ST. JAMES.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>I usually send everyone individual responses, and I honestly have no idea why I didn't this time, but this is a big collective THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed, added me to any of the favorites lists, or put me on alerts. Seriously, it means everything to me. I love you all.


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I do not own _Glee._

**AN: **I'm switching things up a little bit, and splitting this chapter between Kurt and Jesse - so there are a lot of Klaine and St. Berry overtones, but it still retains all the Blainchel overtones - and I think you should all worship Ashley (aceftepicw) because I don't think this could have been written without her, especially the Jesse bits.

* * *

><p><em><strong>KURT<strong>_

Kurt was used to Rachel's flair for the dramatic, but it was still somewhat of a surprise to see her march down the aisles of the tiny theater, bound up the stairs on the side of the stage and slap Jesse St. James across the face without any kind of preamble. The ensemble gathered on stage let out a collective gasp of horror, as if it were part of the choreography Jesse had been demonstrating when Rachel had stormed in, despite his and Blaine's complaints that there was clearly a rehearsal in progress. What was even more surprising though was that she didn't immediately start screaming at Jesse, but instead stood defiantly across from him with her hands on her hips, waiting for him to gather his wits.

"Clearly I haven't been slapped enough lately, since that actually stings," Kurt heard Jesse say as he and Blaine finally made it the stage.

"Clearly you deserved nothing less, Jesse St. James," Rachel huffed in annoyance.

"I'm sure you have a list," Jesse laughed from behind his classic bemused smirk. "But if you had to pick one, it would be what exactly?"

"It'd be that you haven't _once _told me you were in New York to even _visit_," Rachel exclaimed with a stamp of her foot, "much less that you've obviously been here long enough to establish yourself within a theater company that thinks enough of you to have you choreograph entire musicals!"

"You're mad because I didn't call, right?" Jesse surmised and it was all Kurt could do to hold back his own laughter as Rachel stammered and sputtered out a series of no-s, and that's-hardly-the-point-s. They two continued to bicker and Kurt nudged Blaine with his shoulder, cocking his head slightly towards the row of empty seats facing the stage. Blaine hesitated, looking towards Rachel with worry, and it occurred to Kurt that while Blaine certainly knew of Jesse and his sordid love affair with Rachel, he'd never seen them interact before. He nudged Blaine again, more insistent this time.

"Did you bring any popcorn?" Kurt half-whispered as they sat down, Blaine's eyes still glued to the stage.

Blaine shifted uncomfortably and asked, "Is this normal?"

"You mean the thinly-veiled hatred with an underlying subtext of sexual tension?" Kurt suggested with a smile, sighing when Blaine's frown only seemed to deepen. "This is pretty normal for them, yes. They like to fight. When they start making out though, you may want to run for cover. Or keep an eye out for Finn, he usually shows up about that time."

"I've heard what happens when he's around, thank you," Blaine snapped and sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest; and while he watched Jesse and Rachel embrace, Kurt watched Blaine. His face was painted with concern and worry – and if Kurt were to be honest, he was a little of both as Rachel usually imploded anytime Jesse was around – but there was something else in his gaze that seemed out of place: possession. It was subtle, quiet even and he was convinced he was the only person in the world who could have picked it out of Blaine's expression. While it made sense to an extent, it was not something he ever expected Blaine to direct towards Rachel.

"I'd understand you acting this way if you knew him," Kurt whispered, "but you've never really met him, so why are you so wound up over this?"

"I know enough about him to be cautious for her," Blaine replied in a clipped voice. "Rachel's my best friend and I don't want her to get hurt."

The bottom of Kurt's stomach seemed to drop out every time someone reminded him of the distance currently between him and Blaine. Even when they'd lived in separate states, it hadn't seemed as vast as it did now. Even when he'd made the biggest mistake of his life and broken up with him, Blaine hadn't seemed as far away from him as he did right now, sitting mere inches away from him in an empty theater. And it was entirely his own fault, Kurt knew that. It had been his choices, his decisions that he'd made without Blaine, that forced them apart. That made them practically strangers.

He sometimes wished they had just continued being strangers. He could deal with that better, in theory, than this torture that was them trying to be just friends, because being friends wasn't the problem. The problem was that he was still in love with Blaine. It wasn't even like his sophomore year when he'd convinced himself he was in love with Finn; no, he was still in love with someone who used to love him back. He didn't have to imagine what it felt like to fall asleep in Blaine's arms because it was something he knew that all too well. Even nearly two years later, he could remember the way Blaine always smelled faintly of cayenne and cocoa, the sleepy, lazy grin that he would wake up with in the morning, the way Blaine would beg him to sleep in just this once and how, on some days, Kurt couldn't find it in his heart to say no. There were days when he felt like Blaine's entire world.

He missed it more than anything; and even though he knew neither of them were doing it maliciously, every time Rachel and Blaine laughed over some inside joke, every time they hugged each other for even a second longer than they clung to him, every time they did something so little as go grocery shopping without inviting him, it killed him a little inside. Their friendship used to be his after all. He was the one Blaine would run to when he was upset, or excited, or even just plain bored. They used to be that effortless and now everything still felt stalled and awkward no matter how hard he tried to be casual.

But if they were going to have a chance at all, he _had _to be casual, even if it was slowly killing him inside. So he summoned up an easy smile in response and simply said "then we'll both have to look out for her, won't we?" and was greatly relieved to see Blaine's tiny grin in return. He seemed to relax a bit more after that and was once again his pleasant self when Jesse and Rachel finally rejoined them.

"When Cassandra came in whining about some NYADA freshman stealing Sally from her," Jesse was saying, his arm slung loosely about Rachel's shoulder, "I should have realized it was you. Of course, she's about as talented as a blind pig in a dress, so that's what I said instead."

"I'm a sophomore, actually," Rachel corrected him, "and please tell me you didn't actually tell her that."

Jesse gave her a look that even Kurt could tell meant that, yes, he had actually said that, and Rachel just scoffed and muttered something about her cast-mates already hating her. "Charming as ever, I see," Kurt interjected, cutting her rant off mid-sentence.

"And your skin's as dry as ever," Jesse retorted and Kurt couldn't help the hand that immediately went to his face to check for flaky spots. "It's so good to see neither of us have changed at all."

"Well you're being passed over for leading roles," Kurt said, scratching slightly at a spot on his chin that he couldn't quite remember moisturizing that morning, "so I assume someone finally managed to convince you that your considerable talent is wasted on your big mouth."

"Wrong again," Jesse smirked. "My big mouth is my considerable talent. I'm heading the choreography department now. As it turns out, I'm actually very good at it."

"Choreography?" Blaine asked, seeming to jump at the opening in the conversation as he stood up next to Rachel.

"Bossing people around," Jesse answered immediately, then paused for a moment to stare at Blaine, then back to Kurt, then Blaine again until something clicked in his eyes. "Blaine, right?," he said, holding out his hand which Blaine immediately grasped "I don't think we ever officially met. I was at your prom though; you went with Kurt. I see you two are grasping onto the high school sweetheart cliché. Good for you."

"We're not together," Kurt and Blaine blurted out at the exact same time Rachel said a little too quickly for Kurt's liking, "they're not together."

Jesse shot a dubious look in Rachel directions, something Kurt almost missed as he was staring after her himself in slight disbelief. She wouldn't meet his gaze directly either, alternating between staring resolutely at Jesse or at the floor as a heavy blush crept over her cheeks. Not that is mattered at all to Jesse as he muttered "whatever," not fazed in the slightest by the odd tension that hung between the younger three. It was one thing for Blaine to say it, another thing for Kurt to admit it, but for Rachel – why would she feel the need to announce that? She had spent the better part of last year trying to convince Kurt that Blaine was perfect for him; even when she didn't know the real reasons why they had broken up and continued to be so. As irrational as it was, hearing the words "they're not together" tumbling from her mouth felt like his last hope was slowly disappearing. She was supposed to be on his side, always, even when he didn't want her to be and it was this nagging thought that ate at Kurt for the rest of the evening.

-:-

_**JESSE**_

He wasn't stupid. Jesse knew she was in New York and had been for over a year; in fact, he would have been physically sick with disappointment if she had ended up anywhere else, or worse, allowed herself to be suckered into staying in Ohio by that cro-magnon hulk of a boyfriend who got confused over the new flavor of Skittles. How Rachel had ever thought she could be happy with Finn, he didn't understand. But she did at least seem to be, in her own way and if that meant Jesse had to step out of the picture, then that's what it meant. Her and Finn – it was never meant to last; the cracks had shown even as she hugged him goodbye in front of NYADA when she moved in.

Of course Jesse knew she was at NYADA. He hadn't planned it, but he had an audition at a nearby theater and stopped at a coffee shop to mentally terrorize and judge the new round of students accepted by the school that had rejected him. There weren't a lot of them that year, but she would have been easy to spot even if there had been a crowd of hundreds. Because she was Rachel Berry and she was – and still is, of course – illuminating. He longed to go to her, to make his presence know, but to be honest, he was so tired of putting everything on the line for her, only to forgotten once again. He could admit to himself that she had broken his heart, but that was privileged information., and while, undoubtedly he would eventually make the same mistake again, but he was Jesse St. James and that had to count for something.

But that didn't mean he didn't _know _about her. Every now and then, she'd be coming down the steps as he got his coffee, or she'd almost just pass him on the street as she went to her dorm and he to practice. He almost always saw her with a smile; the girl's smile, the real one and not the actress'. She was often on the phone, laughing hysterically over the other end and it pleased him to know that whoever it was, it wasn't Finn. At least, that's what he imagined, because it didn't make him want to punch a wall every time he thought about it.

He could have been the one to approach her. It was logical to assume that he would since he, after all, was aware of her existence in the city. But every day that passed where he didn't, he felt the absolute inevitability that she would find him one day. So he just lived his life, passing the time until she did. He settled into his new company, quickly finding an aptitude for making untrained bohemians presentable on stage through choreography, and soon getting paid to do so. Other studios even started borrowing him, and while he occasionally missed being in the spotlight, it was strange how satisfied he could be watching his work be perfected in front a nearly, sometimes, sold-out crowd. But the thought of Rachel Berry flickered in the corner of his mind, whispering that she would have loved it too. He just wished she would hurry up and find him.

It took her nearly a year, but by her choice of re-introduction, it was like no time had passed at all; her eyes were big and wild with just a hint of hurt, but mostly happy surprise and the sting on his cheek from her slap was more than worth it. Despite all the drama that typically surrounded them, the two of them, they were actually very simple and easy and fell back into their old camaraderie almost instantly. And by her lead, he found himself actually enjoying the company of a more mellow Kurt Hummel and this Blaine kid that Jesse hadn't really bothered to know a few years ago.

He found himself hanging out with the three of them on a constant basis and barely a month later, he could see why she was so close to them. Kurt, she maintained, had always been her other half but he'd never seen her be as open with anyone as she was with Blaine. They seemed to instinctively understand each other, laughing at jokes before they were finished, smiling at each other in random intervals. And Blaine was an easy-going guy, even Jesse had to admit he liked him, but there was just something different about the way he and Rachel were together. He wasn't exactly sure when it clicked, but once the idea was in his head, he was sure he was right. They could be friends all they liked, but that didn't mean Rachel wasn't infatuated with him, or that Blaine wasn't himself. They had a crush, at the very least.

"So Rachel and Blaine," Jesse said to Kurt as they waited for the aforementioned pair to join them for dinner.

"Is that a question?" Kurt responded.

"An observation," Jesse prompted. "They're pretty close."

"Yeah, I guess," Kurt said with a shrug and Jesse wondered just how blind one had to be before it was considered a medical condition. "They've always had a lot in common, even if they didn't know it and I'm pretty sure Rachel had a little thing for him once. Briefly, anyway. They made out once at this party and it was disastrous, but you know Rachel, she likes to sink her claws into anyone who gives her the time of day. And Blaine, well he likes being liked. In a way, they're perfect for each other."

"I thought I was the cynic," Jesse scoffed.

"I'm not being cynical," Kurt insisted as he took a sip of his coffee. "I'm just saying that they get from each other what they need. That's great, that's was friends are for."

"But you don't think it's anything more than that?" Jesse pressed.

"Well it can't be," Kurt said matter-of-factly. "Blaine is gay. Ironically, it was Rachel who made him realize that."

He barely listened as Kurt prattled on about some party Rachel had thrown in her junior year and a game of spin the bottle which resulted in a drunk lip-lock. Maybe he was wrong and they were just friends. He knew enough gay men to know that they could be extremely personal, especially if most of their friends were women. Half the time, these people tended to act like more of a couple than anyone they were dating. But sometimes Blaine would look at Rachel, or she would touch his arm, and they would lean into each other without even realizing it and if he were any random stranger on the street, Jesse wouldn't have believe a word out of Kurt's mouth.

The obvious solution would be to ask Rachel, but that presented an entirely separate realm of problems. If she was, in fact, in any kind of relationship with Blaine, Jesse wasn't sure how he would process that, because that would mean there was even less hope than before. He didn't like the think he pined after her – especially not since it had only been a month since they truly reconnected – but he did often wonder if she felt like they had unfinished business. There was so much left unresolved between them and he wanted so badly to know if she ever truly forgave him for breaking his heart, if she even thought twice about him before she ran back to Finn, or if she even thought about him at all. He just wanted it finished, one way or another, but there was something holding her back from him, or him from her. He wanted her, had always wanted her, but the more time that passed, the possibility of them seemed to drift further away.

But for now, until he knew the whole story, he would content himself with being near her. He would be happy as long as she was, but the moment she looked even a little saddened, he would take his chance, and this time, he wouldn't give her up so easily. This was going to be his time, if she'd give it to him.

-:-

_**KURT**_

If anyone had told him that only one short month later he'd be sitting in a restaurant with only Jesse for company, Kurt would have personally paid to have their heads examined. But there he was, in the middle of October actually enjoying himself. Jesse was still very Jesse, that much was true. He was still brash, borderline rude, and slightly unhinged, but finding his niche had done wonders for his tolerance level in that he didn't immediately ostracize everyone he came across. Not to mention the fact he'd been nothing but a gentleman towards Rachel since that day in the theater, which was a great relief to them all, but especially to Blaine.

It had taken about a week to warm up to him, and Kurt suspected Rachel had a large part to do with it, but Blaine and Jesse got along the best of them all. They had more differences than they had things in common, but that only proved to strengthen their friendship. They argued more than they agreed on anything, but it was always in good humor and apart from Rachel, Kurt couldn't think of another person who had ever gotten Jesse to admit he was wrong about something.

In a way, Kurt was glad Blaine and Jesse had connected – though there was a few days when he wondered if Blaine had developed a crush on Jesse, though he was assured that wasn't the case – but it also meant there was yet another person that Blaine divided his time up for and between Rachel, Jesse, and school, Kurt felt like he was slipping further and further away. He wasn't sure what scared him more, that he was being left behind, or that on some days, he didn't really seem to mind.

Maybe that was the cure, he thought, to actually being friends. It was finally starting to feel that way. Sure, the four of them usually hung out as a group, but every now and then Blaine would sit next to Kurt instead of Rachel, or instead of Jesse. He would rest his forehead on Kurt's shoulder when he laughed or started to get tired. He would text Kurt for his opinion on a set of lyrics he was working on for his class, or to correct all his professors' lectures. And slowly, but surely, Kurt was learning to accept these things as enough instead of longing for something more, even if that's what he was ultimately holding out for.

Rachel and Blaine's laughter announced their presence more than anything else. His arms were wrapped securely around her waist as he whispered something in her ear before she erupted into another round of giggles, tugging playfully at his hair in retaliation to whatever he'd said. As they approached the table, they parted; Rachel slid into the booth next to Jesse and Blaine next to Kurt, but they continued to gaze at each other, barely suppressing their mirth. Kurt felt Blaine's knee jerk forward, immediately followed by Rachel's foot colliding into Kurt's kneecap.

"Control yourselves, please!" he cried, rubbing the offended knee with his hand as Blaine dissolved into a fit of silent laughter while Rachel apologized to Kurt profusely, still managing to somehow insist that is was not her fault. "I don't know why we go out in public with you two."

"Because otherwise your only source of entertainment would be watching Jesse drool over the waitress," Blaine said as he reached to take a swig of Jesse's coffee, only to find that it had suddenly moved just out of his reach.

"I happen to have full control over my motor functions, thank you," Jesse remarked just as the waitress in question appeared at the corner of their table and Kurt had to admire the fact that Jesse didn't even appear flustered at all, just leaned around Rachel and asked for a new cup of coffee for Blaine, actually winking at the willowy blonde as she started a new tab. It took another 15 minutes to order as Rachel had one of her infamous food crises in which she couldn't decide what she wanted to eat – Blaine settled it by ordering one of her two choice with the promise that they could switch if she didn't like hers.

"I don't understand why you don't ask her out," Blaine repeated as Jesse just rolled his eyes.

"If you like her so much, then by all means, you do it," Jesse replied with a roll of her eyes, causing Kurt to laugh. An annoyed expression crossed over Blaine's features as he sat back in his seat and began tearing the corners off his napkin as Jesse continued, "I don't date."

"That's not strictly true," Rachel supplied, staring pointedly at him.

"You're always the exception," Jesse said, shrugging in a non-committal way but Kurt noticed the red tinge that had suddenly appeared around his temples, and the pink that spread across Rachel's cheek as she looked away from him at towards Blaine, who was now drumming the edge of his fork against the table with an irregular rhythm.

"She's not exactly my type," Blaine muttered, staring at his hands.

"That's the truth," Kurt said, nodding emphatically.

"For all you know, she's just a struggling actress," Jesse said, "Isn't talented and nearly-overbearing your type?"

It was hard not to glare at Jesse the way Blaine and Rachel were, even though Kurt couldn't help but feel the comment was directed towards him more than anything. The backhanded insult that managed to describe at least half of the table, but while Rachel was all of those things as much as he was, she wasn't Blaine's type any more than the blonde waitress. "I think what Blaine actually meant," Kurt snipped, "is that she's a girl."

"That's actually not what I meant either," Blaine said briskly before directing his attention back to Jesse. "I just think if you're going to force us to eat here, you should at least get us a discount."

"What did you mean then?" Kurt asked, voice louder than was probably necessary, but all conversation immediately stopped as Blaine turned back to him, the color visibly draining from his face. Kurt looked over to Jesse, who seemed just as confused as he did, then to Rachel, who seemed to mirror Blaine with her wide eyes and worried lip. And the guilt in her face, the complete and utter guilt in her face scared Kurt more than he would ever like to admit.

"I- It's not a big- can we talk about this outside?" Blaine stammered, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Talk about what?" Kurt demanded.

"Not here, okay?" Blaine pleaded and the panic in Kurt welled up even more, remembering all the times Blaine has used that voice on him and all the things it eventually came to mean. It was always something wrong. Something painful, whether it was something Blaine was ashamed of or something he was scared of, but always extremely hurtful to both of them. The last time he'd heard that voice, Blaine had insisted he never wanted to see him again and it took months before he did.

Rachel cleared her throat and an irrational flare of rage shot through Kurt when Blaine glanced at her. "Don't look at Rachel," he snapped, turning Blaine's face towards his again. "Tell me what the hell is going on here. Everyone else seems to know except me."

"I don't know what's going on," Jesse whispered.

"Do not touch me," Blaine hissed, knocking Kurt's hand away, "and I do not want to talk about it."

"Well I do!" Kurt yelled. He couldn't seem to stop himself, nor could he stop himself from running after Blaine as he got up from his seat and stalked towards the door; couldn't help the hand on Blaine's arms that forced him to turn around in the middle of the busy restaurant. And he especially couldn't help the demands that flew out of his mouth.

"I'm bi!" Blaine finally screamed, throwing his arms up in that air. "Okay? That's the big fucking secret."

"Oh God," Kurt cringed. "We've been through this before, Blaine, you're not bi."

"Fuck you," Blaine growled and this time he made it out the door before Kurt could follow him. He felt rooted to the spot, starting at the swinging door and it took him a moment to realize that the majority of the restaurant had turned to look at him. A wave of embarrassment washed over him, but not for being stared at. No, that was the least of his concerns at the moment. It was like a big joke, some big cosmic riot designed to sweep the floor from underneath him and even worse than that, everyone was in on it. The crowd at the diner, Jesse St. James, Rachel.

God, even Rachel knew! She had to know; she and Blaine had been fused at the hip ever since he'd moved to New York. And wasn't it Rachel that had started this whole business to begin with, back in high school at her stupid party in her stupid basement and her stupid games of spin the bottle? And wasn't that her now, rushing out the door after Blaine. Not this time, Kurt thought. He wouldn't let them leave him behind again, wouldn't let them shut him out of their so freaking special friendship that he couldn't possibly understand.

Because this bisexual... _thing, _this was something Rachel couldn't understand. Of course Blaine would tell her, she wouldn't even question him about it because she didn't _know._ She didn't know what it was to be afraid of a part of herself, or that saying you were bisexual was just a way to appease the masses. To them, it meant you weren't a complete freak, not totally. "But you like girls, too?" they always asked and then smiled as if being gay was truly just a phase to grow out of. Rachel would let Blaine walk right into that, but Kurt wouldn't – he cared about him too much.

Rachel had Blaine's face cradled in her hands, speaking rapidly when Kurt made it outside. Half of him wanted to physically rip her away from him, and the other half didn't stop him as he did just that. "How long have you known?" he hissed, gripping her elbow and spinning her away from Blaine. "How long have you been laughing at me behind my back?"

"Kurt!" Rachel gasped, too surprised to really fight him off. "No! It's not like that. Kurt-"

"What?" Kurt continued to scream. "You just forgot to tell me? Or decided I didn't need to know?"

"Don't yell at her," Blaine demanded, prying loose Kurt's grip on Rachel's arm. "She was just being a good friend. My friend."

"She's my friend too Blaine!" Kurt screeched. "She was my friend first and she has never kept any secrets from me until now."

"But it was _my secret!_" Blaine screamed back at him and Kurt took an involuntary step back, distancing himself from the dark sheen that clouded Blaine's eyes in anger.

"Stop it!" and how Rachel always managed to hit the exact pitch that left his ears ringing, Kurt would never know but now she stood between the two boys, her face furious and flushed. Blaine continued to glower at him over her head, his jaw locked per her request. Kurt however tried to speak, only to be met with a withering glare that forced him to bite his tongue. With a deep sigh, Rachel spoke first to Kurt, something he noticed with smug satisfaction. "I told him to tell you Kurt," she insisted, her voice even and calm, "but he had his own reasons for not doing so, reasons that had nothing to do with our friendship, or my friendship with Blaine and everything to do with the two of you and your lack of a civil relationship at the time. And because I love and respect _both _of you, I kept my word to Blaine that I wouldn't tell you until he was ready, while at the same time reminding him that you had a right to know if and when you rebuilt your friendship.

"And you _have,_" Rachel said, turning on Blaine who was looking at his shoes again, embarrassed. "I know this is not how you wanted to have this talk with him, but you let it out and now he deserves an explanation. Because I'm sure he's just as blindsided by this as I was when you told me af-" her impeccable speech faltered for a moment, a split second that Kurt might have missed if her weren't hanging on her every word; "when you told me. Maybe even more so since he was your first real boyfriend."

Rachel's voice dropped to a whisper and she reached for Blaine's hand, giving it a soft squeeze as she said, "talk to him, okay?" and Blaine nodded at her pleading tone. Rachel reached around for Kurt's hand and held in in her other, repeating the same question, to which Kurt found himself nodding as well.

Rachel turned to go back into the restaurant, her hand lingering in Blaine's for a moment longer, but it seemed like Blaine responded to it, pulling confidence from it instead of anger. It's was always remarkable to Kurt, how much Blaine could let show in his face, eyes, body language whereas Kurt struggled constantly to keep himself in check. It was only in moments of complete relief or weakness that he let people see through him; except for when he felt close to Blaine, there he could be just as transparent.

That's what hurt the most, he decided; not that Blaine had a secret, but that Kurt never even suspected.

"So," Kurt tried, drawing the syllable out until he could decide on which question to ask first. While he still thought the bisexuality was an excuse, a way for Blaine to make life easier on himself, he could at least hear the other boy out. He'd have to, he realized, or it would be just another reason for Blaine to leave him behind completely. "This is a real thing, then?"

"Yes," Blaine replied with a slight roll to his eyes, arms still crossed defensively. "It's not a _thing _either, it's who I am as much as being gay is who you are."

"I just feel like I need to remind you," Kurt said, hoping his voice sounded a gentle as he thought it did, "that you did already explore this and you said you were gay."

"I wasn't- I said that but-," Blaine stammered, rubbing the back of his neck in agitation. "It was different then. I was already... at the time, I had more feelings for you than I had for anyone else."

Kurt tried to ignore the old fluttering in his heart that returned with that simple admission; that Blaine had considered him for longer than he let on, it was news to him. "Oh," he finally said. "I guess I can't be mad at you for that."

Blaine chuckled slightly as he explained. "It's not like a purposely lied about it. I didn't even realize it was a lie, to be honest. I just knew that I cared more about you than anything I might have with someone else. It wasn't until after you- after we broke up that I even thought about it again."

"And how did that happen exactly?"

This time Blaine really did laugh and started singing with an amiable grin on his face: "_I got brave, drink in hand, lost my discretion" _and as much as he didn't want to, as much as this was meant to be a serious 'remind Blaine how gay he is' talk, Kurt couldn't hold in his own laughter as Blaine continued singing _"I kissed a girl" _as if bursting into song was a perfectly acceptable way to hold a conversation. And they'd used to do this, sing random lyrics to each other when the occasion would rise. It was utterly ridiculous, but it was their thing.

-:-

_**JESSE**_

Rachel was near tears by the time she reentered the restaurant, her eyes rimmed red with frustration. Jesse wasn't at all surprised with Blaine's outburst, though it did seem to confirm his suspicions about his relationship with Rachel and any doubt he may have still had flown out the door with her as she raced after him in his distress. Clearly, there was more going on between the two of them than they wanted to let on, but they weren't exactly subtle about it. Honestly, he expected more out of Rachel, given her dreams to be an actress; or perhaps he spent too much time micro-analyzing her every move.

"Are you okay?" Jesse asked as she sat down next to him, her arms wrapped around her.

"They're just so angry at each other," Rachel sniffed, shaking her head a little, "and I can't fix it for them. Kurt started yelling at me, and then Blaine was yelling at him for yelling at me. I just left them out there, Jesse. I told him to tell him, I told him so many times that the longer he waited, the worse it would get."

"So Kurt really didn't know about Blaine?" Jesse mused, slinging his arm loosely around the back of the booth. "I thought it was pretty obvious."

"What do you mean?" Rachel gasped, turning to face him for the first time.

"Well you two are dating, aren't you?" Jesse smirked, pleased with her flabbergasted attempts of denial. "You're at least sleeping together."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Rachel said quickly, but her eyes were too wide, her face too flushed for him to possibly believe her. "Blaine and I- we're not- I mean there's- We're not dating Jesse!" she finished in a high squeaky voice.

"Want to try that line again?" he laughed and wasn't even silenced by her glare.

"NO!" Rachel screamed, practically slamming her head against the table and clasped her hands to her ears. "We're not- I don't even know how you know any of this. It's just complicated Jesse."

Her back heaved with an irregular rhythm and the smile dropped from his face he realized she might actually be crying. An uncharacteristic well of anxiety rose in him. Loud, frantic, dramatic Rachel Berry, he could deal with. Crying Rachel Berry, that was an entirely different monster he had never met. "Don't do that," he said, rubbing circles through her shirt, "It's not worth crying over."

"I'm not crying," Rachel declared, whipping her hair over her shoulder and staring him point blank in the face. "I'm hyperventilating because everything is wrong and it's all your fault!"

"My fault?" he cried.

"Maybe!" she groaned, resting her head on his shoulder. "I don't know! You just aren't supposed to know these things and you do and I don't know how you do, but it just makes everything even more complicated than it already is and why do you always, always do this?"

He listened to her read off a list of his sins – how he'd used her, how he'd dangled a relationship with her mother in front of her and torn it away, how he'd broken her heart, then broke an egg on her head. He ruined her prom, distracted her during Nationals, and several other things he didn't remember doing or having any part in other than maybe being in the same room at the time. He never realized how much she blamed him for, and worse, how much he cared. Every new revelation, whether he thought it was his fault or not, was like she was pricking him with a needle, deeper and deeper each time, and there was only so much he could take before he started aiming for blood himself.

"And what about you? You used me to get to Finn and I even let you sometimes," Jesse argued. "It's not like you're a saint either and I'm sorry if being around me means you have to own up to reality. Because this is what _you _do, Rachel. You take an easy, simple thing and make it ten times more complicated than it needs to be because you need drama. You're sleeping with a gay man, fine, but don't pretend like you're not. Not with me."

She glared at him, and he was determined not to break away from it. That was the thing with them. They were both incredibly stubborn and when that came head-to-head, there was really no telling which way it could go. They could argue for days – and in fact had done so – and it wasn't in him to just lie down and take it. Maybe that's what she needed, why she needed Finn, because he never seemed to understand that as complex as Rachel was, she still needed to be challenged. If they did fight, however, he'd never had the restraint to be anything but blunt. If she were upset now, he would only make it worse. He never wanted to do that, but that was usually how it went.

"Why do you always have to be so right?" Rachel sighed, giving him a small grin.

"It's one of my many talents," Jesse smiled back, breathing an internal sigh of relief that she hadn't taken his snide remarks offensively, no matter how true they might have been.

The waitress came by with their food bundled up in to-go boxes - "Just a hunch," she'd said – and while Rachel dug around in her purse for her wallet, Jesse handed a fifty dollar bill to the girl, telling her to keep the change and ushered Rachel out of the restaurant. "So do you want to talk about it now?" he asked as they walked towards the bus stop.

"Not really," she muttered, shifting the bag of food in her hands. She insisted on carrying them after he'd paid and no amount of cajoling could have convinced her otherwise.

"Look," Jesse said as he stepped in front of her, forcing her to look at him. "It's not my business and from what I can see, you do look happy. But if he's playing you, or leading you on by feeding you the 'oh let's just keep it casual and be friends still' then you need to know you're worth more than that. You deserve more than that and in fact, you should demand it."

Her eyebrows quirked ever so slightly as she glanced him over with a curious smile and his mind suddenly flashed back to her sophomore year, when they'd met. He hadn't really been interested in her at all, she was a pawn to win another National Championship, and a bizarre favor to his mentor. But he'd always had an appreciation for her and the longer the charade when on for him, the harder it got to tell what his emotions were actually doing. But he knew she was a beautiful, misunderstood person who deserved more than she was getting. But this was nearly four years after he muttered the words "epic romance" and instead of dim library lights casting shadows across an uncertain teenager, the glow of New York surrounded her, bathing her in confidence; she had never looked more beautiful to him.

"Thank you, Jesse," Rachel finally said as the bus came and waited until they were seated before she continued. "I don't want you to think Blaine is using me. He's not that kind of guy and I like to think I've grown up enough to not let that happen again. What Blaine and I have is- it's hard to describe but it's mutual, whatever it is."

"Then why would you settle for a psuedo-relationship if it's so mutual?"

"Because there's a lot of extenuating circumstances," Rachel explained. "First, obviously, is that he's my best friend. And we've been lucky so far to have not ruined that, but I'm afraid we will. Then there was the Kurt matter and we didn't want to hurt him by throwing this in his face, especially when he didn't even know Blaine had changed. And besides, with Blaine just starting college, and me in my second year at NYADA, there's just more important things to focus on than our love lives."

"Are these even your words?" Jesse teased, only the smallest bit of disdain leaking through.

"They are," Rachel nodded. "I've grown up a lot in the last year. I realize there are more important things than what boy I may or may not be dating. I have to look out for myself, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy Blaine's company in the mean time. He makes me laugh, he's considerate, he has this way of keeping me balanced when I spin out of control. He's always been able to do that for me, even before we started sleeping together, and nothing about that has changed. He is still Blaine, I am still Rachel, and that's enough for me right now." There was a slight pause before she said with her eyes lit up, "And you're right. I am happy."

"That's all I want," Jesse admitted.

"Now you have to answer my question," Rachel sat, shifting in her seat until their knees touched. "How did you even figure it out?"

"You're slightly less than obvious," he replied flippantly, smirking as Rachel slapped him lightly across the shoulder. "Besides, I used to want to be on that stage as much as you do. I learned to read people Rach," he paused, making sure if voice was the perfect example of casual before speaking again, "especially those I care about."

Her only response was to rest her head against his shoulder. Eventually, he wrapped his arm around her and the spent the remainder of the bus ride to her apartment in silence, watching the city pass in a blur of lights and sounds.

-:-

_**KURT**_

He ended up walking with Blaine to his dorm, listening as he explained how he met his first actual girlfriend – a fiery sprite of a girl called Michelle – and how she claimed to be bisexual too. How Blaine explained that he was still as into guys as he ever was, but if he felt the same kind of connection to a girl, it was logical to pursue that as well; coming from Blaine, it did all sound very _logical. _But the eternal romantic that still lurked under Kurt's skin couldn't quell the feeling that love was an illogical act. It was something that defied reason and sent you hurling into madness, and it was only the other person's hand clasped in your own that kept you from tumbling over the edge and disappearing forever. Or if you fell, they fell with you, all or nothing.

Kurt just felt that Blaine was settling for anything instead of nothing, instead of what he really wanted. He kept this to himself, even as Blaine told him that Michelle had left him simply because Kurt had come back into the picture. If that was all it took, then how close could they have been? Blaine may have liked her, cared for her, but it couldn't possibly be the same as when he had been with Kurt. It was incredibly self-important, maybe, but Kurt felt like he was to blame for it. If he hadn't broken up with Blaine for a guy who turned out to have no interest beyond sex, then maybe Blaine wouldn't have turned to someone who clearly had no idea who Blaine really was or what he needed. If he had been there, Blaine would have been kept safe, and happy.

"You've been pretty quiet," Blaine remarked as they walked off the elevator and started towards Blaine's room, the last in the series. "You have things you want to say. I know you."

"I have a lot of things to say," Kurt admitted, leaning against the door frame while Blaine did the same opposite of him. "I just don't know how to say them."

"You're not usually the one at a loss for words," Blaine said and Kurt was so tempted to start reciting the mental list of 'reasons you are not bisexual' he'd compiled during the walk over; but even in his head, it sounded aggressive, like he'd ignored everything Blaine had said and simply wanted to be argumentative. It wasn't that at all; more than Kurt was sure he was absolutely right and Blaine was just floundering. A long flounder, maybe, but a flounder nonetheless. But he knew as sure as he knew his own name that if he confessed this to Blaine, they'd be back in front of the restaurant, screaming at each other loud enough for the rest of the world to hear.

"I think we're just going to have different opinions on this," Kurt finally said, choosing his words as carefully as he could. "I don't understand the idea of being bisexual, but if that's what you feel comfortable as, then I can't take that away from you. I wouldn't want to."

"I appreciate that," Blaine answered, his eyes shining with honesty and Kurt knew he'd managed to say the right thing. Blaine took his keys out of his pocket and opened his door, hesitating at the last minute. He turned back to Kurt. "I'm sorry, by the way. I was going to tell you."

"What exactly stopped you?" he asked, voice low.

"I was angry with you," Blaine said. "For a long time, I was angry and hurt and this was my way of... of punishing you I guess. By keeping you out of my life, I could hurt you back. It was stupid and petty and I've been thinking for weeks now that I needed to talk to you about all this. It just didn't happen the way I wanted it too and I'm sorry for that."

Kurt gave him a small smile, which he returned before turning back towards his door. For a split second, Kurt was content to leave it at that, to say 'goodnight' and call it a night. But his hand acted on it's own accord and reached out to curl around Blaine's upper arm, pulling his attention back to him. Blaine looked at him, eyebrows quirked in question, but didn't resist. Kurt didn't have a plan, didn't even know what his intentions were. It was pure impulse he was running on.

"Can I just say one thing?" Kurt implored, an odd note of desperation he didn't know he was feeling lacing his words. Except it wasn't something he could actually _say_; it wasn't something that meant anything with actual words. Because all the words in the world could be taken back, used against him, twisted to mean anything else and he couldn't be misunderstood. Not now, not in this because Blaine needed to understand him, no gray areas left to explore.

It was like his heart was being fed a thousand jolts when Kurt touched his lips to Blaine's. It had been so long, but it was achingly familiar. His mouth fell into a natural pout, soft except for the one spot in the corner that no amount of chapstick could smooth. It was as warm as he ever remembered it to be, a current slipping though his skin and he could feel his cheeks flush. There was nothing better than kissing Blaine, except for when Blaine would kiss him back.

Which he was decidedly not doing at the moment. He wasn't pushing him away, he just wasn't responding. He didn't even seem to be breathing and when Kurt pulled away, he didn't move away even then. The only inclination Kurt had that he hadn't suffered a complete paralysis were a few slow blinks and the way his eyebrows furrowed together.

"Kurt, I-"

And he couldn't stand it – how it could feel so familiar and result in something so different – so he just kissed him again, pulling Blaine closer to him, hands flying around his shoulder as he took advantage of Blaine's open mouth. He didn't dare push further, though he longed to deepen the kiss, to get some kind of positive response. But they lingered, with more than enough time for Blaine to force him away, though he didn't. His hands settled on Kurt's waist for a brief moment before falling away.

"What the fuck is this?"

This voice of pure venom startled Kurt away from Blaine faster than anything else ever had. A tall, athletically built boy he'd never seen before stood just inside the door to Blaine's room, holding the door open and staring incredulously at the pair. The disgust was obvious on his face, and Kurt fought back the shudder that threatened to take him over. He'd seen that look before, many times, and nothing good ever came from it.

"Go away Seth," Blaine snapped, glaring at who Kurt had to assume was his mysterious roommate. "It's nothing."

His words would have hurt more if Kurt had had time to actually process them, but Seth had moved from the doorway, glaring down at Blaine as he yelled. Kurt could just barely make out the words "homo" "bitch" "asshole" through the otherwise unintelligible babble streaming from Seth's mouth, but it was enough. As Seth got more and more flustered, Blaine grew more defiant and when his hands started shaking, Kurt knew he was beginning to lose patience. He was feeling cornered, attacked, and now that their shouting had woken up others in the hall, they had an audience and Blaine, as calm and cool as he could be under pressure, could only hold out for so long. He always broke, one way or another.

"I can fuck whoever I want in _my_ room," Blaine finally snapped, trying to step around Seth but the other boy blocked his way.

"But it's not your fucking room, is it?" Seth argued, shoving Blaine away from the door. "I actually spend more than five goddamn hours a week in this room, so it's my fucking room and I don't want you or your bottom bitch faggot boy flaming up my fucking room."

"You leave him out of this," Blaine growled, his hands curling into fists.

"What are you going to do about it, huh?" Seth demanded, shoving Blaine against the wall this time, hands knotted in the front of his shirt. "Because your little fairy over there, he's not going to do anything."

"I said," Blaine hissed. "to leave him out of this."

Seth's hands were dangerously close to Blaine's neck as he challenged, "Or what?" and that seemed to be the last straw for Blaine. His arms snaked between Seth's and knocked them aside, shoving Seth away with a strength that took the other boy by surprise. An excited murmur swept over the crowd that had gathered in the hallway. Seth was livid and shouted "You're a dead man," and lunged at Blaine, his fist colliding with Blaine's nose. There was a distinct crack of broken bone and and the horrified gasp that escaped Kurt seemed to echo down the hall.

If Blaine was in any pain, he didn't show it. Instead he just wiped the blood off on his sleeve and responded with an uppercut to Seth's jaw, snapping the boy's head back. Then they were both on the ground, a series of flying limbs and grunts and profanities. A few of the boys in the hall had stopped watching the fight and were now trying to break it up, but Blaine's frenzied mirth seemed to egg Seth on.

"This is your worse nightmare, isn't it?" Blaine grunted as he managed to dodge a hit to his ribs. "You're getting your ass beat by a gay man."

"Fuck you!" was Seth's eloquent response.

"All you had to to was ask," Blaine retorted, rolling away from another punch. Someone had managed to get his arms around Blaine and pulled him away from Seth, who was currently pinned to the ground by someone else, yelling at him to calm down. To Blaine's credit, he settled down immediately and moved back to stand by Kurt. Blood was still gushing from his nose, trickling down his chin in macabre fashion.

The whole scene had been so surreal to Kurt. He knew better than almost anyone that Blaine harbored a temper, and he'd accompanied many times to the gym if only to watch as Blaine punished a punching bag for whatever was eating at him – his father, school, sometimes ever Kurt – but aside from a few outbursts, he'd never actually seen Blaine in a fight. And while it was horrible and violent, and every fiber of his being just wanted to make sure he wasn't hurt, a darker part of him enjoyed the fact that he had been fighting in Kurt's defense. The gleam in his eyes, the tension in his chest, the ragged breathing; it was seductive.

"You didn't have to do that," Kurt finally said, choking around the lump in his throat.

"Of course I did," Blaine immediately responded with a smile as he placed a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Everything seemed to fall away in that moment. All of the awkwardness, the unanswered questions, the maybes and nevers and might-bes. Kurt knew, right then, that they were friends. Not exes, not old high school acquaintances; they were actual friends. Blaine cared enough to stand up for him, to get hurt for him; something Kurt would have never expected from him even less than an hour ago. "You're hurt," Kurt said with the same smile. "Let's just get out of here."

"Just one last thing," Blaine answered with a devilish smirk, the likes of which Kurt had never seen, and turned back to Seth. "I'm bisexual, by the way," he said as the other boy's jaw dropped in astonishment. "I could fuck you and then your girlfriend if I really wanted to. Fortunately for you, homophobic bigots aren't my type."

-:-

_**JESSE**_

"Are you sure I can't eat Blaine's pasta?" Jesse yelled from Rachel's couch as she threw away their empty plates.

"No, he often comes over after his last class without eating," Rachel reprimanded. "He'll appreciate that we thought about him enough to save it for him."

"I did pay for it, you know?" he retorted.

"And he'll appreciate that even more."

The intercom by Rachel's door buzzed, causing her to jump and look over at him warily. "Expecting anyone?" he asked and she just shook her head before stating that not even Blaine came over this late. The buzz became more and more insistent until finally Rachel ran across the room, pressing her finger on the button with a terse "hello?"

"It's Kurt and Blaine," came the static-filled reply.

"What are you doing here so late?" she inquired while simultaneously pushing another button that would open the front door for them. There was a garbled response that sounded something like "long story" before Rachel informed them that the elevator was broke again.

Jesse was actually kind of annoyed that the other two boys in their little group were making another appearance. Not that he wasn't curious about how their whole thing had gone, but it was rare that he had time with Rachel by himself. He understood why now, but that didn't make him like it any less. He felt the need to take advantage of any time she would give him, especially if she was entangled in a not-so-casual-to-his-eyes relationship with Blaine. Especially if he intended to be an option for Rachel and he definitely intended to be. He liked Blaine enough to not directly interfere with their relationship, but that was the risk of having an open relationship. If someone else set their eyes on your almost-girlfriend, she was technically fair game. Jesse knew as long as Rachel was happy, he wouldn't do anything, but the second she had any doubts, well, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself. He was essentially a selfish person, after all.

Rachel let out a loud, horrified gasp as she opened the door and he bolted off the couch, rushing across the room and planting himself by the door, ready to fend off whatever had scared her. He didn't seem anything out of the ordinary, just barely registering Kurt and Blaine. Then he noticed how Blaine's arms was slung around Kurt's shoulder, how he was leaning to favor his left side, and finally the dried blood matted around his nostrils and speckled along the collar of his shirt. There was a deep bruise spread under both of his eyes, sweeping up just around the inner corners.

"Don't tell me Kurt did that to you," Jesse quipped as Kurt led Blaine inside, Rachel already fretting over his injuries.

"This is not funny Jesse!" Rachel shrieked. "Blaine, what happened to you?"

"I had a little fight with Seth," his speech was slurred, like he had a bad cold and he winced as he practically collapsed on the couch, his hand automatically wrapping around his ribs as if guarding them. "It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Rachel repeated, glaring at him with a measure of concern, something only she could pull off. "Your nose is broken!"

"It is not!" he insisted.

"That's exactly what I looked like when Finn broke mine," she argued back before spinning around on her heel to yell at Kurt. "Why didn't you take him directly to the hospital?"

"I was, but he said he left his wallet with his insurance card in his jacket at the diner," Kurt explained. "We assumed you brought it back here."

"You could have just called us to meet you there," Jesse supplied offhandedly as he watched Rachel hover over Blaine. She kept reaching out to touch him, only to pull back before she did, as if afraid to hurt him. He leaned further into the couch, taking short breaths and looking very uncomfortable, but oddly at peace. And Jesse realized it was because of Rachel; the way he gazed at her, eyes soft and loving, never bothering once to search out anyone else out in the room. And though she was clearly on the verge of panicking over his current state, she gazed back at him in the same way. They didn't even touch, didn't even speak, but it was like there was no space between them at all.

When she finally did gently take his hand and lead him towards the bathroom, Jesse wondered if even taking a shot at her was even worth it at all while Blaine was in her life. This thought, this single passing moment, was more depressing than any other in his life.

"What happened?" he found himself asking Kurt who was twisting the silk scarf he wore in his hands.

"His roommate doesn't like gays," Kurt whispered guiltily. "It's all my fault."

"That's probably not true," Jesse replied. He really did feel sorry for the kid; he had a way of attracting a lot of negative attention to himself without trying to. Yes, he was incredibly high-strung and needy, but he wasn't a bad guy all around. He just often ran into a lot of bad luck and didn't have the personal skills to know how to handle it.

"It is," Kurt bemoaned. "If I hadn't kissed him, then there wouldn't have been a fight."

"You kissed Blaine's homophobic roommate?" Jesse quizzed.

"Blaine," Kurt said with a pointed stare. "I kissed Blaine."

"Oh," was the only response he could muster as he processed the new information. Kurt had kissed Blaine. In effect, Blaine had kissed Kurt. Blaine, who was with Rachel right now in the bathroom, who only moments ago had looked at her like she was his whole world, had kissed someone other than Rachel. The thought filled him, and he was an awful person to admit this even to himself, a dark, twisted hope that maybe there was a crack to be seen after all.

"I just wanted to prove to him that he is gay," Kurt moped, "and maybe remind him how good we were together, but I just ended up hurting him. Again."

"You can't _prove _that he's gay," Jesse interrupted.

"You've only known him for a month," Kurt snapped, "so excuse me if I don't consider your assessment of him to be viably accurate."

"And yet, I seem to know him better than you," Jesse prodded. "He says he's bi, he's bi. Whatever problems you have with it, it's not your place to 'correct' them. Deal with it and move on. You're gay, he's bi, you're still in the ring."

Kurt merely looked at him for a long moment, his jaw locked into place as he seemed to consider his words. A quiet washed over Rachel's tiny apartment, the only sound coming from the streets below until Kurt let out a little breath of a sigh and said, "you're right."

"I've been told that a lot tonight," Jesse grinned. "Doesn't make it less true."

"I still don't think he's bisexual," Kurt said, and Jesse just rolled his eyes but continued to listen anyway. "But I can accept that he thinks he is, because he's my friend and I owe him that."

"Yeah," Jesse muttered darkly to himself, glancing towards the bathroom door. "We're all friends here."

-:-

_**BLAINE AND RACHEL**_

"He kissed you?" Rachel whispered, kneeling in front of him as she dabbed lightly at the blood crusted under Blaine's nose with a wet towel.

"Yeah, twice" Blaine sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the edge of the toilet seat, every now and then gently prodding his aching side with his fingertips. He was sure he was just bruised, but after Rachel convinced him his nose was indeed broken, his mind started churning to the thought that maybe a rib or two had been smashed as well. Though the pain in his chest could also be from having to tell Rachel exactly how he'd gotten into this state to begin with, and that meant telling her about what happened in the hall beforehand.

"Did you kiss him back?" she asked, her expression closed and guarded as she seemingly concentrated on cleaning him up before they headed to the emergency room. It wasn't a look he liked on her; it was like she was preparing for something that he wouldn't be a part of.

"No," he answered honestly, thinking about the actual kiss itself. It had been initiated by Kurt, both times, and there hadn't been and reciprocation that he could recall. Except for one thing. "I didn't exactly push him away though."

She sat back on her heels, dropping the bloodied towel onto the floor next to her. "He took me by surprise," Blaine expounded. "I honestly didn't see it coming. But I just thought you should know."

"Did you want to?" she said and her voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear it. "Kiss him back, I mean?"

Blaine paused, searching for the answer to that question. He knew what she wanted to hear, but he wasn't sure if that was the truth and they always, without fail, told each other the truth. She expected it of him. "I don't know," he finally said, reaching for her hand to hold, sighing in relief when she accepted it.

"Jesse knows," she said, squeezing his fingers. "He guessed, I guess, but he knows. I couldn't lie to him Blaine."

"We never asked each other to lie, not really," he rationalized.

She could see him starting to shut down, to retreat and she wanted desperately to free him from that, but she wasn't sure how to get out herself. Over the course of one evening, a singular part of the day, two very big, unplanned for events had happened and it shook her more than she had readied herself for. The doubts clouded her mind, wondering if they were living in a glass house and someone had started throwing stones.

"He won't tell Kurt," she said as if she were reciting lines for memorization, with no emotion. "He doesn't like to meddle in other people's business."

He laced their fingers together and she leaned against his leg, hair falling over his knees. "What does this mean Blaine?"

His voice mirrored her own, barely a whisper as he repeated, "I don't know."

* * *

><p><em>I write, you read, you review, and I write more. I promise.<em>


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I do not own _Glee._

**AN: **I'M SO SORRY it took me so long to update. I had my computer in the shop for about a week and a half, so I lost a lot of writing time while it was gone. Also there were some major edits I had to make (which was hard) and over-all, this was just a stressful chapter and I'm sorry. But if you're still here, thanks for waiting patiently and I hope you don't murder me for this.

**Mature Content Warning **- _this is the warning - _semi-explicit sexual content

* * *

><p><em><strong>RACHEL<br>**_"What exactly did they mean by suspended?" Rachel huffed while Blaine put a stack of notebooks and folders in his old-fashioned storage trunk, followed by an array of desk supplies and his alarm clock. Jesse was busy pulling books from the shelves while Kurt sat on his bed, folding clothing before passing them to Rachel to put in one of Blaine's suitcases. To his credit, Blaine seemed to be taking the news in stride, but he looked positively exhausted and generally beat down. His injuries hadn't been too serious, apart from the clean break in his nose and his sprained wrist, but the bruises made him look worse than he really was. They had all decided that Blaine needed to stay away from his dorm until school officials decided what to do about his violent roommate – she'd voiced her opinion rather loudly that the boy should be expelled – but she never imagined that when he did return to his room, he'd be vacating it per the school's request.

"Fighting is against the NYU's conduct policy," Blaine explained, for once not bothering to hide his emotions, letting his disappointment weight down his voice. "I'm suspended from classes for the rest of the semester, and then they'll decide if I'm eligible for re-entry."

"It's ridiculous!" Kurt fumed. "You were attacked by your uncultured brute of a roommate, you had to defend yourself."

"He threw the first punch," Blaine agreed with a nod, "but I hit back. We're both to blame, and therefore, both suspended with no credit for the classes we've taken, no access to the school grounds, and on top of that, no place to live."

"I can't believe they even kicked you out of your dorm," she sighed as she handed Kurt the last of Blaine's shirts and ushered him off the bed so they could start taking the sheets off. "Where do they expect you to go?"

"Imagine if they made you go back home, like they do at boarding schools," Jesse remarked, unplugging Blaine's laptop and placing it in the open duffle bag to his left.

Blaine's face twisted in a grimace. "How am I going to tell my father about this? He's going to lose his freaking mind."

"He'll probably be angry that Seth didn't beat the gay out of you," Kurt said flippantly.

"Kurt!" Rachel admonished, glancing in Blaine's direction who seemed to be holding back a laugh. "Maybe you won't have to tell him," she then suggested, knowing it was foolish.

"I don't have a place to live Rachel," Blaine said pointedly, zipping his suitcase shut and throwing it out the door before turning to help Jesse with the television. "I have to go home which means, I have to tell him."

"You could just stay with Rachel," Kurt said and Rachel almost nearly leapt out of her own skin; not because Jesse had inexplicably dropped his side of the TV and was staring open-mouthed at Kurt, but at the mere implication that she actually live with Blaine. It was- the idea of it- there's was no way- they couldn't. It was too... intimate, which was pathetic really, considering how "intimate" the two of them had become. As a friend, of course to help him, but to _live _with him while sleeping with him in secret; it was like begging for trouble.

"I-I uh, think maybe-" Blaine stammered, the bruises on his face off-set by his deep blush, "that's something Rachel should decide, don't you think?"

"It's not like you're not always over there anyway," Kurt reasoned, looking at all of them like they'd lost their minds and maybe she had. He _did _spend an awful lot of time at her apartment. He'd even spent a weekend there alone when she went home to surprise her dads for their anniversary. He had finished painting her walls with the accent color Kurt had picked out weeks ago, even adding his own touches of red. They ate together often and he tried to cook and even though it was a fairly regular occurrence, she didn't think she'd mind getting to wake up next to him every morning, or have him come home to her every night.

"I mean, it's not a bad idea, I guess," Rachel said quietly, tucking her hair behind her ears as she gazed across the room at Blaine. He didn't say anything, but he matched her gaze, curious and testing. "If you want," she said, prompting and he might have answered if Jesse hadn't chosen that moment step between them carrying the television, effectively breaking the spell.

"It's a terrible idea," Jesse grumbled as he turned around. "I understand that you two are practically the same person, but even Barbie and Ken eventually stopped playing house."

"Apart from the random but fairly accurate metaphor, Jesse might be right," Kurt considered. "You could end up tearing each other apart."

"I really think it would be fine," Rachel insisted, directing her heated gaze towards Jesse who merely returned with one of his own. "Besides, where else is he going to go?"

"I've got a spare room," Jesse said with a shrug as if he'd forgotten. "He can stay with me."

She wasn't exactly sure why she was so annoyed with Jesse, but short of starting a shouting match in front of Kurt and Blaine, there wasn't much she could do except glare at him. She knew he wouldn't be offering his place if he didn't know about her affair with Blaine, and it was downright infuriating that he was trying to take this away from her.

"I think I'd be more comfortable at Rachel's," Blaine said hesitantly, his eyes flickering between her and Jesse as if he noticed the tension. "I appreciate it, but I know her neighborhood pretty well and-."

"And what, you're afraid of getting lost?" Jesse mocked, shaking his head. "You have no job, no classes now, you literally have nothing to do except walk around and get lost. Might as well do it somewhere new. Besides," he said as he threw the rest of Blaine's bags out into the hall, "Rachel's place is barely more than a two-by-four prison cell. Trust me, take the upgrade."

She knew he was right, which only served to irritate her more, and if Jesse was willing to share his admittedly much larger apartment, then maybe that's what was best for Blaine. It was just a passing fancy, she told herself. It would have been awkward, she said, but she couldn't make herself that she wasn't missing out on something she wanted. Still, she was mature enough to know when and who to fight her battles with. Until then, she could swallow her pride and say to Blaine, "I don't think I'd have room for all your stuff anyway."

"If you're sure..." Blaine trailed off, searching her for an answer. She summoned her best, happiest smile and nodded until he looked back at Jesse with a shrug of his shoulders. "Okay, yeah. Thanks man. I appreciate it."

After the matter seemed to be settled, they hauled Blaine's belongings down to the nearest bus stop and squabbling over who would carry what. Kurt didn't want to carry the television, but Blaine and Jesse were both needed to move his trunk around, which left Rachel with the two suitcases and Kurt begging her to switch. In less than an hour, they'd made it Jesse's place and started unpacking in Blaine's new room while he disappeared to call home and tell his father about his suspension. Rachel had wanted to be with him, but Kurt beat her to it and she needed to give Jesse a piece of her mind anyhow.

"I told you about my relationship with Blaine because you figured it out," she snipped, abandoning her task at hanging jackets to once again glare at him, "not so you could sabotage it."

"I'm not sabotaging it," Jesse answered, his voice in a hard edge. "I'm saving it. You can't live with him Rachel."

"And just why can't I?" she screeched and he shushed her quickly, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her across the hall into his own room. She was momentarily distracted, having never been anywhere as personal to Jesse as his room, and was pleasantly surprised by the wall of books – novels, song books, plays, everything – he had behind his bed, with stacks in the corners where he had clearly run out of room. Spread out across his bed were an assortment of loose leaf papers, pens and highlighters, sheet music and dozens of photographs in black and white.

"Did you take those?" Rachel asked, her mission forgotten as she stepped towards his bed, already reaching for the nearest picture.

"Don't worry about it," Jesse said, sweeping them all into a pile and stashing them under his pillow before he turned his attention back towards Rachel. "Do you know how fast you'll get sick of having him always there?" he said and it took her a moment to remember they had been previously been involved in another conversation, about Blaine. "All of his crap would be spread out everywhere, you couldn't have everything the way you like it. There would be no privacy, nowhere to go when you fight. You'll ruin any chance you wanted at actually having a real thing with him."

"You don't know that," she said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Please," he scoffed, mimicking her movements, a pattern he knew would annoy her. "You didn't even want to live with him until I told you you couldn't."

"That's not true!" she shouted louder than necessary, but only because it _was _partly true. She had initially panicked when Kurt suggested it, though she contributed that more to the surprise of it all than to any reservations she may have had against the idea. But she wasn't adamant about it until Jesse offered another alternative and no matter what he said, she knew his intentions weren't as pure as helping Blaine, or her for that matter, as a friend.

"Okay, you need another reason?" he asked and she rolled her eyes, encouraging him to continue with a wave of her hand. He was silent for a moment, as if in a silent debate with himself before saying, "he kissed Kurt."

"Kurt kissed him," she corrected and the laugh bubbled forth before she knew it was even happening. "You think I didn't know about that?" Her eyebrows quirked, a sly smile playing at her lips. "See, the thing about Blaine and I is we have no secrets. We tell each other everything. I understand if that is hard for you to relate to, but that's the way we are."

"Right," Jesse said, his eyes flashing with steely anger. His lips where pressed into a hard line and even though she had knew, had even meant for, her comment to hit close to home, she instantly felt guilty for reminding him of something that happened nearly four years ago. But wasn't that the old saying, forgive but never forget. "Does he know you're in love with him?"

"I'm not in love with him!" she snapped indignantly.

"Then you definitely don't need to be living with him," he shot back and she could barely think through the smug smirk plastered all over his self-righteous face. It was outrageous, how quickly he could get under her skin, but he always seemed to know just the right combination of words to elicit whatever response he wanted from her. Right now, he wanted her to say he was right – and _of course _he was – but she just couldn't bear to give him the satisfaction.

"You don't get to control my life just because you're in it now Jesse."

"If Blaine really wanted to live with you, he would have said so," he answered, as if he couldn't let her have the last word, "But guess what; he didn't."

She let out a frustrated scream and threw her hands up in the air, turning to storm out of the room. She had her hand on the doorknob before he caught her by the arm again and she was forced to face him. "It's just for a few months," Jesse said, his voice and manner considerably kinder. "Then he'll move back into the dorms and if you still want him to live with you in the summer, I will personally move all of his belonging into your apartment. But don't make it so easy on him."

"What are you even talking about?" she whispered, suddenly self conscious under his direct gaze.

His grip loosened and fell slowly down her arm, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake under his hand was cradled on her hip. His other was busy tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear. When he was done, his fingers lingered at the base of her neck, slowly inclining her head to stare up at him. "Blaine is a good guy," Jesse said and she was riveted to the spot, "but he's still a guy. If he thinks he can have all of you without committing to you, then that's the way it will be. It won't be his fault either, it will be yours."

"What if I don't want a commitment?" Rachel said, wetting her suddenly dry lips. "I just spent the last three years in an on-again, off-again relationship. I just want someone I can be with without the drama."

"That's a hell of your own making Rachel," he sighed, leaving her standing at the door as he moved to lay on his bed, arms crossed under his head in support.

"At least it'll be mine," she agreed, moving across the room to sit next to him. They shared a small smile, and she had to admit there was a certain relief in having someone to talk to about her situation with Blaine, even if Jesse was incredibly abrasive. It wasn't personal, she knew, it was just who he was and always had been. It was reassuring to always have something to count on, something consistent to offer. She didn't have to agree with him and sometimes all she needed was him to play the devil's advocate, but in the end, she knew Jesse was ultimately on her side.

"Now, let's talk about these," she said as her hand slipped under his pillow, tracing the sharp edges of the hidden photographs as she pulled them out. He sat up on the bed, watching her as she flipped through them. "Did you take these?"

"I use them for blocking," he said by way of explanation. "The black and white makes it easier to see what's going on on my stage."

"Your stage?" Rachel teased, turning one over and tracing the blurry movement from one of the dancers. "Some of these are very artistic."

"They're crap," he said, plucking the photograph from her hand and throwing it over her shoulder. "I can't use ones like that."

"I bet they'd look good on the walls though," Rachel mused, holding another one up to the wall. "See, three or four of them in a frame, line them up. It'd be pretty."

"It might," Jesse shrugged, gracing her with a soft grin as she rolled her eyes. "You can have them if you want."

"No," Rachel said, shaking her head and handing the photos back to him. "If anyone's going to use them, it should be you."

"I just told you, I can't use them," Jesse insisted, but took it back from her, placing it on his bed instead of throwing it to the floor as he had done the other.

"Well, maybe one day," Rachel smiled, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him to his feet. "Come on, let's finish getting Blaine moved in. You two need to move that fold-out couch in here before we try to do anything else."

"You're so bossy," Jesse groaned as she led him out the door.

-:-

_**BLAINE  
><strong>_He never thought of himself as the kind of person who got bored easily, but after a few weeks of having absolutely nothing to do, Blaine was sure he was going to lose his mind if his life became any less uneventful than it currently was. The first week had been like a mini-vacation. He slept in later than he normally did without having to worry about being late for class, or what homework he hadn't quite finished. It was nice to have a break, but as his life came to a screeching halt, everyone else's began to speed up. He'd even gotten a part-time job pushing coffee at the Starbucks across the street from Jesse's apartment, just to have something to get up and go pass the time with – and also because his father had actually made good on his threat to cut him off financially while he remained suspended from school. It was mind-numbingly dull, but it wasted a good five to eight hours of his day that otherwise would have been spent counting cracks in the ceiling. Again.

Not that Starbucks was that much better, he mused as he wiped down the counters for the third time in the last thirty minutes, during which only a handful of customers had come through the door. It was rare that there was such a lull at this time of day, but at least by being there, he was being paid for his tedious life. The chime on the entrance sounded and Blaine looked up from the counter, grinning as Kurt wrestled with his overly large book bag.

"Grande nonfat mocha," Blaine said instead of hello, already busying himself with the coffee grinder to make Kurt's drink.

"Imagine if I ever ordered anything else," Kurt laughed, throwing his bag on top of the nearest table.

"The world would probably end," Blaine teased, setting the hot cup in front of Kurt then taking a seat across from him. "You realize there's a coffee shop right across the street from NYADA, right?"

"I hadn't noticed," Kurt smirked with a roll of his eyes. "I've only lived there for two years, but you were texting me and Rachel all day about how lonely you were, I thought I'd come grace you with my presence."

"And it is much appreciated," Blaine chuckled as Kurt began pulling out numerous notepads and books from his enormous bag. "What is all this?"

Even though he heaved a heavy sigh, Blaine noticed the way Kurt's eyes lit up with excitement as he began detailing the short play he was busy writing for his advanced theater and stage class. "If the department head likes it well enough, I could even co-direct it next semester when I take the second part of this course," he explained, sliding a stack of carefully bound papers towards Blaine. "Which is actually one of the reasons I wanted to come by. Would you take a look at it for me? I need a critical eye and I always made better grades after you looked over my papers in high school."

"Your papers were always A level work," Blaine said, flipping casually through the manuscript. "Besides, editing a technical English paper is entirely different from editing a play. I don't know anything about how to write stage directions or scenes. I just know how to memorize lines and stand where the director tells me."

"No, but that's okay because I need someone to read it and tell me if the story is cohesive," Kurt pleaded. "I need to know if the characters are hard to relate to or if anything is left underdeveloped. It'd be like reading a book."

"I mean, of course I'll do it," Blaine agreed. "It's not like I have anything else to do and at least this way, you'll be forced to come see me again."

"The shame; the horror," Kurt whispered dramatically, clutching a hand over his heart as Blaine shook his head in an attempt to hide his amusement.

"You joke, but I feel like I hardly ever get to see any of you anymore," Blaine sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Jesse is always gone, rehearsing with his company or with Rachel, who spends all her time in classes or, again, with Jesse. Then you've obviously been holed up writing this script and you have all abandoned me for the glamorous life of a struggling college student."

"I can't imagine how hard it is for you, not being joined at her hip anymore," Kurt responded in sarcasm before sobering his expression. "I haven't seen much of Rachel myself. She leaves classes and scampers over to theater so Jesse can tel her how high to jump. It's like watching a re-run of those dreaded months when they actually dated during our sophomore year."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Blaine said automatically, trying to remember what Rachel had told him about her time with Jesse. She'd felt like she loved him, he knew that, and their romance had come to a bitter, sudden end when he sold her out to the competition. But mostly she talked about how Jesse believed in her talent, how he pushed her without putting her down, how maybe he didn't go into the relationship for the right reason, but he came to those reasons on his own. She felt valued when she was with Jesse and after getting to know Jesse personally, Blaine could understand why Rachel felt that way. It was the truth, ultimately, that Jesse cared about her and about her dreams in a way that almost no one else did. "I think if she's willing to forgive him, we should go along with it, " Blaine continued. "They're friends. That's good."

"If Jesse had it his way, they'd be more than that," Kurt insisted. "I'm honestly shocked it hasn't happened already. You've seen the way he looks at her. He wants her and Jesse is nothing if not persistent and entitled. He could have her with a snap of his fingers."

"I don't think you're giving either of them enough credit," Blaine responded with a sigh. "Rachel knows how to handle herself; she's grown up a lot. And Jesse, well I only know what he was like in high school based off what you and Rachel have told me, but the guy I know now knows enough about boundaries to not force his way into Rachel's life. It has to be her call."

"Trust me, she'll fall for him again. It's only a matter of time," Kurt said as if he himself were carving it in stone. "Rachel doesn't always do what's good for her, you know that. It's like when she asked you out on that date years ago. I told her it was a bad idea, that it would end in her heartbreak, but she still insisted on going."

"I had a good time time on that date," Blaine reminded him.

"Regardless," Kurt interrupted, "it was a one-time thing. With Jesse, it's a pattern and a destructive one at that. But I guess we all have those patterns. Rachel and Jesse, you and I."

"I'd hardly call us destructive."

"I meant there's always people you end up going back to," Kurt clarified. "Granted, it's never the same, but there are some people you just need. One way or another."

Blaine failed to hide the frown on his face; Kurt had always had the unconscious ability to render him speechless, whether it was with an unexpected term of endearment or by accidentally picking out his greatest insecurities, sometimes pointing out things even Blaine himself wasn't fully aware of. He wasn't threatened by Jesse and Rachel's past relationship – he just wasn't that kind of guy – but he did suddenly feel as if he were in a balancing act, precariously tipping over the edge of a cliff. He had noticed the way Jesse looked at Rachel but he was confident it wasn't Blaine that stopped him from acting on it. Rachel was the one holding him back and if she ever gave him an opening, Blaine wasn't sure he wouldn't be the one left in the dust.

He would be the odd one out again, the one on the sidelines who had to smile through the pain, wondering where he belonged, or if he even did. It was an uncomfortably familiar spiral, one he'd sworn he'd never fall back into. But here it was, like that crazy reckless friend who left you alone to deal with the consequences, burrowing it's way into the pit of his stomach, restless and unsettling.

Because sometimes, Rachel looked at Jesse the way he looked at her.

-:-

"We haven't done this in a while," Blaine smirked as he pulled off Rachel's sweater and tank top in one deft movement, his hands traveling well-known paths up her bare torso. Her back hit the wall and she giggled, wrapping her legs around his waist, inclining his hips towards hers.

He hadn't seen or heard from her since his talk with Kurt four days ago, and Jesse had been coming back to the apartment at obscene hours of the morning. Blaine hadn't been able to stop his imagination from running wild as he thought of the two of them together. So when he answered the door in the middle of the afternoon to see Rachel beaming up at him, he considered the possibility that he'd had a stroke. It wasn't until she'd hurriedly slammed the door shut behind him and fused herself to his lips that he remembered that this was his reality.

"It's really been too long," she agreed, her nails digging into his shoulders as he kissed the side of her neck, nipping at the skin and soothing away the injury with his tongue. The salt of her skin made his mouth water as if hungry, and he was. Hungry for more, for her body, for her. He was a starved man, weak from it.

"Well, you have been awfully busy with your musical," he pointed out, grasping her wrists and pinning them to them to the wall, flexing his fingers just enough to know he wouldn't bruise her. Yet. "Rehearsing until all hours of the night, wearing nothing but a pair of tight little shorts, working up a sweat with Jesse. You know, a guy could get a little jealous."

"No more than a girl could get of you hanging out with her best friend," Rachel quipped, her teeth tugging playfully at his earlobe. "Especially considering your particular histories."

"We all have histories," he remarked, silencing whatever her next thought would have been with a rough kiss and soon there were caught in a power-struggle, pouring all their pent-up frustration and need into each other in a whirlwind of lips and tongue and teeth. When he pulled away to breathe, she held his bottom lip hostage, nibbling at the sensitive nerves until his hands tightened around her wrists. Her body buckled and rocked against his, urging him on.

He dipped down, dragging the flat of his tongue down the valley between her breasts, her erratic and hitched breaths all the encouragement he needed. Her thighs tightened around his hips, her hands straining in his grasp but he wasn't quite ready to let her go. "Please," her voice was nothing more than a mewling rasp to his ears as he teased around the lacy edge of her bra. "Blaine, please, let me touch you?"

He merely shook his head, teeth grazing the swell of her breast before gathering the skin in his mouth, biting down until she clenched around him, her heels digging into his ass. She moaned, his name dripping from her lips and he could feel himself harden just at that. And suddenly, it wasn't just her need; her needed to touch her, to feel in her come apart in his hands. He let her wrists go and they fell instantly to his bare chest, traveling down between their bodies as he shoved a hand under her bra, grasping at her as if she were the blood in his veins. Her hands had somehow made it past his belt, moving in time with his mouth.

"Fuck, Rach," he groaned, her hands guiding him towards the edge. He wasn't quite ready for it and if she didn't let go, this could be over before it started. Yet, it was physically impossible to form the words to ask her to stop.

"Don't fight me, Blaine," she growled when he all but stopped breathing, punctuating her words with one long, full stroke. "I want to feel you come in my hand. Will you do that for me?" Another stroke and his knees were shaking, his useless hands long-forgotten at his sides. "Look at me," she demanded and he did; he marveled at her dark pupils that were blown as far as he'd ever seen them, her cheeks a plush red and at her swollen lips forming his name. "Come for me."

That was the last of his resolve and all the oxygen left him in one strangled moan of her name as her little fingers worked every last drop from his body. She untangled herself from him, and he leaned his forehead against the wall, trying to regain some semblance of control; which was proving extremely difficult as she was on her knees, using her tongue to clean him off. If he'd anything left in him, the sight of her lightly sucking on her own fingers might have have sent him spiraling again.

She hoisted herself up using his hips, a shy smile playing at her lips and he let out a breathy laugh at the thought that she could be so brazen one moment and so innocent the next. He reached for her, softly cradling her face and gave her an unhurried kiss, simply savoring the feel of her against him. He nuzzled into her shoulder and she giggled lightly against his neck as he pinned her against the wall once more. His hand fell between their bodies, palm flat against her skin as it trailed through the valley of her breasts, thumbs grazing and fingers searching. He toyed with the zipper at her hip, teasing the skin just under the waistband of her skirt, watching intently as the flush rose in her cheeks from even the slightest contact.

"I missed you," he whispered, not caring what implications may be lurking under his words.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in years," she replied, arms laced around his neck to hold him close. "But I'm all yours for the rest if the day. We can make up for lost time."

They stumbled their way to his room and Blaine absently thought it was a good thing he didn't bother folding the pull-out bed back into the couch as they fell onto it, Rachel tugging his shirt over his head. It wasn't long before the rest of their clothes followed suit but something seemed to shift as soon as they did. The desperation from earlier dissipated into soft touches, slow and lingering as they took time to relish each other. Even when she sat half-propped against the pile of pillows as he parted her knees, sinking his teeth lightly into her thigh, he didn't feel rushed to claim her. She felt like his and it reminded him of the first day they'd spent together like this, memorizing their bodies, apart from the world as they made their own.

Rachel's hands bundled in his hair as she let out a deep moan, the vibrations traveling down her body, her legs trembling around his shoulder as he took her into his mouth. His tongue reached out, quickly finding the bundle of nerves that sent her tumbling towards a climax faster than almost anything else, working silently as he surrounded himself with the sounds of her quickened breaths and lewd moans. His fingers dug into her hips, holding them still as they started to buck.

"Jesse!" she cried suddenly, her body tensing in a wholly different way than that of when she came. Confusion and hurt flashed through him, overwhelmed only by anger as she pushed him off. She curled her legs into her chest, as if she were trying to hide from him, staring slack-jawed at the door in horror.

"Oh Jesus Christ, really?" an entirely separate voice echoed through the room and Blaine whipped around only to see Jesse standing in the door frame, eyes wide as he threw a bundle of clothing towards Rachel. "Don't leave your clothes around my apartment and close the goddamn door."

"I did!" Blaine shot back, grateful for the sheet that was tangled around his waist that saved him the embarrassment that Rachel was currently experiencing in trying to redress without flashing the rest of the room. She wasn't looking either of them in the eye as she shimmied her tank top over her head, but Jesse couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her, no matter how many times he tried to divert his attention away. His ear were tinged with pink, his pupils a little wider than they needed to be, and his fingers were fiddling with his belt loops; the anger returned as Blaine realized that not only was Jesse practically leering at Rachel, he was turned on by it. "Would you leave please? Now?" Blaine growled.

Jesse's eyes snapped away from Rachel, glaring at Blaine before he slammed the door shut. Blaine could hear him stomping down the hall in the direction of the bathroom and his mind was back to spinning with thoughts of Jesse and Rachel and the two of them together; thoughts Blaine was sure Jesse was currently working out on his own into a handful of tissues. It was more than he could handle at the moment as he rolled off the bed and began searching for his jeans.

"Oh my god," Rachel breathed, clearly mortified. "I can't believe that just happened."

"It's his fault," Blaine muttered darkly as Rachel scrambled into her skirt, straightening her clothes and smoothing down her hair. "He had no business just walking in like that."

"It is his apartment Blaine," she said instantly.

"That's he's sharing with me," Blaine snapped back, tugging his shirt over his head, "and excuse me if I expect some privacy in the room he gave me, with a door, that was closed."

"Was it, though?" Rachel challenged, her eyebrows quirking in defiance. "I didn't close it Blaine and I don't remember you doing it either. Jesse's not going to lie over something that trivial."

"Are you seriously taking his side right now?" Blaine scoffed.

"I'm not taking sides!" Rachel insisted, stepping around the bed to stand in front of Blaine. She made a move as if she were going to hug him, but he resisted, crossing his arms over his chest instead. Rachel stood still for a moment as if unsure what to do next, worrying her bottom lip as she finally decided upon resting her hands on his shoulders. "I'm just saying maybe the door wasn't closed. It's not like Jesse wants to come home and watch two of his friends have sex on his couch. It's uncomfortable for him."

"It's more like he doesn't want to watch you be with anyone else when he'd rather you be doing it with him," Blaine said, furious as Rachel blushed a deep red, her eyes downcast. He brushed her hands away, running his fingers roughly through his hair as he sat on the edge of the bed, glaring resolutely out the window. Logically, he knew they hadn't done anything wrong and that the source of his wrath was all in his head, but Rachel's immediate need to defend Jesse did nothing but fuel the fire. Blaine was just as embarrassed as she was for having been walked in on, but a normal couple would just laugh it off. But they weren't normal – or even a couple – and he was starting to feel like he was kidding himself for thinking they ever were.

"That's not fair Blaine," Rachel sighed, sitting across from him on the bed, reaching for his hand but was again denied. "Jesse and I aren't like that and I would never do that to you even if we were."

"You can do whatever you want Rachel," Blaine snapped before the words fully formed in his mind.

"I don't understand why you're being like this," Rachel said quietly and he glanced over at her, noticing the glassy corner of her eyes where tears were starting to form. His every instinct wanted to reach out and soothe them away but her words stopped him before he could give in. "Are you mad at me for spending time with Jesse? Because you've been spending a lot of time with Kurt and I haven't said a single thing about it despite the fact that we both know he's still in love with you. Am I supposed to think you're sleeping with him too?"

"I'm not!" Blaine shouted.

"And I believe you," Rachel shouted back and she stood up, hands on her hips as her temper flared. "So you should afford me the same courtesy with Jesse!"

"Do you even realize that every other word out of your mouth is his name?" Blaine sneered as she rolled her eyes and began tugging her flats onto her feet.

"I'm leaving" Rachel announced. "I don't have to stand around and let you yell at me for something that is not my fault. I let Finn get away with that for years, but I'm not in high school anymore and I don't have to take it. I'm going home."

She started towards the door, halting in surprise when Blaine beat her there. "Better make sure Jesse's okay before you do" he snipped, his hand twisting the knob and throwing the door open to let her out, "and make sure he's not too _uncomfortable. _He's probably still in the bathroom if you want to help him out with that."

He didn't wait for her to respond as he slammed the door in her face. He immediately regretted it, smashing his head against the opposite wall, trying to knock the image of her broken and crumbling expression from his mind. He let out a silent scream, furious with himself more than anything; it was all falling apart and he had no one to blame but himself.

-:-

_**RACHEL  
><strong>_Rachel was numb as she stared at the spot Blaine had been in only moments before, completely at a loss for how things has spiraled so far out of control that it justified a door being slammed in her face. She knew he'd been struggling after his suspension - bored and lonely - but there wasn't much she could do for him. She tried to be as available as possible but rehearsals for _Cabaret_ were longer and more frequent as the date for opening night hurled towards her; consequently, she did spend much more time with Jesse and even if she admitted there was a small truth to the things Blaine had said, Jesse had thus far been nothing but a friend to her. If he was interested in her, he wasn't crossing that line.

The worst part was that she still felt the urge to march into his room and apologize; for the fight, for not being around, for not understanding what was going on in Blaine's head. Except she hadn't done anything wrong this time and she was through letting herself be punished for things that she hadn't had anything to do with, no matter who it was. No matter that it was Blaine.

When it became clear to Rachel that he wasn't going to fling open the door and run after her anytime soon, she turned and headed towards the front of the apartment. "Don't leave on my account," she heard, causing her to freeze once more as Jesse breezed down the hall past.

"I wasn't," she snapped, coming up behind him and shoving him into his room, this time sure to close the door behind her, "though you can kindly explain to me why you didn't have the good mind to leave after walking in on Blaine and I."

"Why would I leave my own apartment Rachel?" he asked.

"You agreed to share it with Blaine," she responded, fully aware that she was reiterating the same arguments she'd shot down barely five minutes ago. "He and whoever he has over have a right to privacy."

"Here's a few tips on privacy," Jesse replied, flopping down on the bed and crossing his arms under his head. "Don't expect to have it at someone else's place. Don't leave a trail of clothing leading to your destination. Don't leave the door open when your boyfriend is going down on you and above all else – this is the most important one Rachel, so please listen carefully – don't do any of this at your ex's house."

"You know Blaine's not my boyfriend," Rachel sighed, though the disclaimer she was so quick to bring up was beginning to wear thin on her. It would certainly simplify a good portion of her life if she didn't have to correct Jesse (or herself) every time something about Blaine and their relationship came up.

"I know!" Jesse barked, sitting up against the headboard and glaring at her disapprovingly. "You're not dating. He's your best friend. It's complicated. You need new lines Berry. I told you I'd keep this a secret, but could you at least try to have a little more discretion?"

"You and Blaine both are yelling at me over this and I still don't understand why!" Rachel exclaimed loudly.

The achingly familiar sound of another door being slammed reverberated through the apartment, literally shaking the the walls. Something fell with a rattling crash; Jesse cursed softly as he got off his bed to investigate. Rachel followed, noticing that Blaine's room was empty, the door swinging slowly on it's hinges. His jacket was missing from the chair it had been draped over earlier; he'd left, she realized with a sinking heart, still angry at her and there was no telling when she'd get to see him again.

Jesse was bent over, picking a frame up from the floor where it had fallen. "I said I'd keep this a secret for you," he said, straightening up and balancing the picture on a nail sticking out from the wall, "and I will, but you're making it really hard to keep doing that."

Rachel gulped, trying to speak around the knot forming in her throat. "I don't mean to," she whispered, glancing at the photos on the wall behind Jesse so she didn't have to look him in the eye. There was something familiar about them, but she didn't have the aptitude to put her finger on it just then. She felt completely rundown, tired, and it was just barely evening.

"I know you don't," Jesse said, "but the things you do, the things you ask me to ignore, they don't just affect you or Blaine anymore. I'm involved in this and how do you think it's going to make me feel when I have to blatantly lie for you so you can keep this up? People are going to get hurt Rachel. Maybe they already have."

He hadn't said any of this maliciously, but she knew he was right; late at night, when the long hours forced her to be honest, she could feel the strain on her connection with Blaine and it was obvious he was too. She'd told herself it was because she hadn't seen him, that it would disappear when they were together. But clearly it hadn't; that tiny fissure had cracked even further and now she could clearly see that it was starting to bother even Jesse. Immensely, because the photos on the wall, the ones she thought she recognized, were the same ones she'd told him to save and put on display. Swirls of black and white, dancers in motion, flaring lights in the background; he'd hung them up simply because she liked them. He would never ask her to give up something that made her happy, even if it made him cringe inside.

Except she didn't feel happy at that moment. Not at all.

-:-

_Blaine didn't come back. - Jesse_

Rachel had been staring at the text on her phone since biology started, anxiety creeping over her with every passing second she didn't respond, or hear from Jesse that he'd made a mistake, or even Blaine texting her from work because he had nothing else to do. Half the class went by and neither of those things happened, despite the two texts she'd forced herself to send to him. When the professor dismissed them, Kurt – who had been staring at her throughout the course – stopped her before she could convince herself to skip the rest of her classes and race over the Jesse's apartment.

"You didn't take any notes at all," Kurt said with concern. "Is something wrong?"

"I guess I'm just a little distracted," she admitted, glancing once again at her phone. No new messages, missed calls, not even an email. "Jesse said Blaine didn't come home last night. I'm a little worried."

"Blaine's fine," Kurt smiled at her, relief in his eyes. "He's probably hungover, but he slept in my dorm last night."

"He was in your room?" Rachel asked, flabbergasted when he nodded.

"Yeah, he showed up around eleven or so," Kurt explained, shifting his bag to his other shoulder. "He was completely plastered and I let him sleep it off in my bed while I did homework. He's probably still there."

"Why did he- I mean, did he say anything?" Rachel muttered, chewing on the inside of her mouth. Her anxiety was beginning to bubble and boil, confusion and the slightest twinge of hurt, mixed with a deep seated annoyance; the hypothetical things he'd fought with her about yesterday, he'd just made them real and it burned inside her as if she's swallowed gasoline. "Why was he there?"

"He babbled a lot mostly," Kurt shrugged. "Something about letting me get into his head and then he started talking about screwing something up, but I couldn't get him coherent enough to follow what he was actually talking about. I just tried to make sure he wasn't going to vomit all over the floor, but he was fast asleep when I left this morning, completely fine."

Kurt glanced at his watch and hurried off this his next class before Rachel could say anything else. As she watched him run off, blissfully unaware of her inner turmoil, she knew instantly that she needed to work it out before he did get sucked into it. Unwillingly, like Jesse and if Blaine were going to Kurt for comfort, it was only a matter of time before he drunkenly slurred the whole story out to an unprepared Kurt. She made her way quickly through campus towards the dorms, having to wait for a student to let her into Kurt's hall since she didn't have a pass card, and planted herself in front of his room. She started knocking as loudly as she could.

"What?" Blaine shouted, eyes blurry and his hair a disheveled mess. Any other day, she would have thought he looked cute, but not today.

"Rachel! God, sorry," he apologized instantly and she noticed he at least had the decency to look ashamed; not that it meant much to her at the moment.

"You left me to go to Kurt's?" she demanded without any preamble. "You left me, in your apartment, to go get drunk and crawl into Kurt's bed?"

"Can you not scream at me?" Blaine pleaded, his eyes screwed shut.

"I haven't even started yet," she insisted as Blaine grumbled something about being too hungover to argue, as if she could feel any sympathy towards him right now. "You're really going to have to explain this one to me Blaine because I'm at a loss. How could you accuse me of messing with Jesse behind your back, then go straight to Kurt and actually do the same?"

"I didn't do anything with Kurt," he grumbled, eyes sharper as he crossed his arms over his chest, "but it hurts a little, doesn't it?" She was taken aback at how bitter he sounded, though she supposed she should have guessed this was coming. It was a strange comfort to know he shared her tired and worn, jealous feelings, even if it inevitably led to another fight.

"So this is your retaliation?" she scoffed.

"Out of all the things I would want payback for, do you really think it'd be because you told Jesse I wasn't your boyfriend?" he retorted and she was taken aback at how bitter he sounded.

"I didn't realize you'd heard that," she sighed, leaning against the door frame as she reached for his hand. He seemed reluctant but his face softened with the attempt of a smile, slipping his long fingers between hers, albeit loosely. "I've gotten so used to saying that that I hardly think about what it means. I just need you to know that you're more than that. Always. You're my-."

"Don't say best friend," Blaine snapped, ripping his hand away from hers. He pushed past her spot in the doorway and began irritably pacing the hall. "I don't even know what that means anymore. It used to mean something real and now it's this big, convenient excuse for everything we do. 'Don't worry about her; no, she's my best friend - I don't have any feelings for him, he's my best friend.' It's so stupid Rachel."

"What do you want me to say Blaine?" she said heatedly. "Do you want me to start calling you my boyfriend? Because I can, and we can walk around campus holding hands and while we're at it, we can make out in front of Kurt."

"Leave Kurt out of this," he demanded.

"The way you left Jesse out of this?" she hissed, matching his steely gaze with one of her own. "You say Jesse wants me, fine: but you and I both know Kurt is still hopelessly in love with you. The way he looks at you, you've seen it and I've seen it from you. You may not be in love with him the way you used to be but you can't convince me there's nothing left."

The fact that Blaine couldn't look her in the eye was more telling than words he might have said. It had almost been a bluff - she had the vague suspicion that he cared for his ex-boyfriend more than he let on but chalked it up to the way she cared for Finn and how she thought she cared for Jesse - but Blaine didn't call her on it. It hurt more than she expected it too, made everything feel like a lie. Even if they never would blatantly lie to each other, the things they left unsaid were just as damaging.

"Just tell me what you want from me," Rachel pleaded.

"I just want to feel like I'm still important to you," he replied, his hands tangled in his own hair. "Forget everything else - school, the play, Jesse, Kurt, whatever this thing we're doing is - and tell me why you need me."

"I can't just forget those things," she whispered, fighting against the urge to simultaneously scream and cry. "They're all parts of me, just like you are, and they're not independent of each other. But how can you say you're not important to me when we're falling apart at the seams and standing here trying to stop it and I still don't even understand how any of this is happening."

"Then we have bigger problems than either of us know what to do with," Blaine said sadly. He turned from her and started down the hallway, his head down as she called after him in vain.

-:-

When she realized that Blaine wasn't going to call her, the next several days became pure torture; she couldn't concentrate in class, she'd forgotten to write-up her part of her and Kurt's lab work, and she was so hopelessly lost during rehearsals that even Jesse had taken to banishing her backstage with strict instructions to watch and practice on her own. She couldn't even do that and eventually just sat down and waited for the day to end so she could walk in shame back to her apartment.

Things with Blaine, they were supposed to be easy. They were supposed to know where the line was, and to not cross it unless they were both willing to do so. She couldn't be sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, the line started moving and she didn't which side of it she was on anymore, much less where Blaine was. It was excruciating to think; after three years of friendship, they were further apart now than they'd ever been. Now she understood how Kurt felt; losing Blaine to this wasn't an option but the solution, she feared, could do more harm than good.

She spent the next two days trying to talk herself out of it, to think of another way around what she ultimately knew she had to do. She tried to convince herself that she was just scared and running away, which wasn't an uncommon reaction for her. She dismissed her doubts, saying she made them up in her head, until they came roaring back with a vengeance in the middle of the night.

It took her another two days to finally make the call. She curled up on the couch, legs tucked underneath her and her heart fluttered nervously as she listened to the line attempt to connect then begin to ring. It rang a total of five times, an iron vice tightening in her chest with every one that passed without him picking up. There was no sigh of relief when he finally did, just a slight tremor in her hand as she switched off the speaker to her phone.

"Do you have time to talk?" she asked quickly before he could say anything.

"Not really," Blaine replied, obviously distracted. "My break's almost over and there's a line at the counter."

She cringed; she hadn't thought that he might be at work and all her doubts whispered to her "t_his isn't the right time. He deserves being told face to face anyway. You don't want to do this now." _Rachel almost caved, the words, ''nevermind, we'll catch up later' on the tip of her tongue but she forced them away. "It will only take a moment," she said instead.

"I really don't have time Rachel," he repeated.

"You didn't have to answer your phone Blaine," she couldn't resist saying, though she knew it was the wrong thing to lead with.

"Did you just call to yell at me some more?" Blaine groaned, all the hurt she'd felt for the last week in his voice, which just made it all the worse, she thought, knowing that he was suffering for this too. "If you did, I think I can save you the trouble and fill in the blanks, okay?"

"I don't want to yell at you," Rachel insisted and tried to force her tone back on a conversational level and failing as the words tumbled out faster than she could think about them, "but it's like you don't listen to me anymore and I don't know how else to get your attention."

"Don't make this all my fault, Rachel!" he yelled over her. A stony silence fell over the line and she literally bit her lip to keep from screaming back. Moments passed and she listened to him breathe, marveling at how it was so unlike the nights they fell asleep talking on the phone. There was a tension she swore she could hear even over the static. She expected him to hang up any moment, and jumped a little when he finally broke the quiet.

"What's happening with us?" Blaine whispered and her heart began to break. "We never fight like this and lately that's all it's been."

"I hate fighting with you," Rachel sighed in agreement, forcing down the sob in her throat as she prepared for what she knew she had to say, what she'd known all week. "Blaine, maybe it's time that," and her throat closed up, almost as if her body were rebelling against her. The stoney silence from the other end did nothing encourage her as she could almost picture him stopped dead in his tracks, running his long fingers through his hair in frustration as he waited for her to finish. Maybe he knew what she had meant to say and was praying for her to change her mind, but she couldn't. She wouldn't.

"I think it's time that we end this Blaine," she said, the former wavering in her voice replaced by a strong, clear thought. "I don't want this to ruin our friendship and if we keep doing things this way, it will."

"Rachel, I don't think-."

"You know it will," Rachel interrupted, knowing that if she allowed him to talk, he could convince her of anything.

"Can we talk about this before you throw away four months of our lives?" he asked and the words felt like a sting upon her skin. Tears started to form in the corners of her eyes and she struggled to hold them back. She couldn't cry now; if she showed any of the weakness she felt, it would all be for nothing. She would break and they would fall back into the same cycle and this was not a conversation she could bear to have again.

"This is exactly what I mean Blaine," she insisted, letting her pain harden her voice. Even if he didn't understand, even if he didn't agree, she knew this was the right thing and it needed to be done. If it was up to her to save them, then she would shoulder all the blame. It was something she was used to and for him, she'd gladly do it a thousand times.

"Can I please just come over and talk about this with you?" Blaine begged, his voice cracking at the end and she tried not to imagine the wounded look she knew was in his eyes. "Please, I'll leave work. I'll leave right now," was his choked plea and her tears began to fall before she could do anything to stop them.

"I'm sorry, but you can't," she whispered, cutting of his protests as she hung up on him and curled into herself, hugging her knees to her chest. The phone immediately started ringing again and it was all she could do keep herself from answering it, from letting him convince her she was wrong. She hurriedly turned the device off, hurling it across the room in a fit of rage before she collapsed on the couch to drown in her own despair.

_**BLAINE  
><strong>_It didn't hit him immediately – not like when Kurt had broken up with him, or even like Michelle – but when it did, it was crippling. He couldn't bring himself to leave his room except to use the bathroom where he usually ended up staring at the wall for an hour or so. He hardly remembered to eat and he didn't go back to work until the manager threatened to fire him, and even then he ghosted through the day as if he had actually died. He felt like part of him had, or at the very least, someone he loved.

The worst part by far was the confusion; he couldn't say he was blindsided by Rachel's decision, but there was too much left up in the air by it. Whatever they had been – he couldn't think about it now, it was pointless – was over and done with for reasons he wasn't sure they would ever really understand. He was angry, furious even, that she'd cut him off the way she had and then that would be taken over by an overwhelming wave of guilt as he thought of all the ways he might have forced her hand.

"Tell me the truth," he said one night when Kurt answered his phone in a tired voice. "Is there something in me that just won't let me have good things in my life?"

"Are you drunk again?" Kurt muttered with a deep sigh.

"No, but I think I'd like to be," Blaine admitted, scratching at an old scar on his leg. "Just answer the question."

"I don't understand the question."

"Why do I ruin or lose every good thing I've ever had?"

Kurt spent a good ten minutes reassuring him that it wasn't his fault, whatever it was and that no, he didn't push people away or make them leave him. But in the end, Kurt hadn't been able to give him a real answer, at least not one that he could accept. After all, he was the only common denominator and the one person who might have been able to convince him otherwise was now part of the equation. He couldn't bring himself to talk to her, and in his fits of anger, he couldn't help but wonder how this was at all for the good of their friendship.

It was a week before Jesse said anything to him about the way he'd been acting, his face devoid of his characteristic smirk and overtaken with genuine concern as he ordered them dinner and declared he was staying in for the night. He offered to invite Kurt and Rachel over and suddenly Blaine realized that Jesse didn't know that he and Rachel weren't speaking any longer; even he wasn't that cold-hearted.

"So do you want to talk about it?" Jesse asked while Blaine struggled to finish his first slice of pizza.

"What about?" Blaine asked automatically.

"About why you're about to cry into your crust there," Jesse remarked, moving the pizza box from between them and situated himself so that Blaine was forced to stare directly at him. "Seriously, you can talk about whatever it is. I'll even listen."

"Thanks," Blaine drawled sarcastically, wrapping some of the melted cheese around his finger.

"I won't even run through choreography in my brain or practice the tirade I'll be delivering to the light crew tomorrow," Jesse said earnestly. "I will listen to whatever you need me to listen to even if it's boring."

Blaine started laughing and it took him a few good minutes to get himself under control, clutching his side and relieved to find that Jesse was still here, his classic smirk in place while he waited for Blaine to settle. "Better?" he asked, and Blaine nodded. "Good. So talk."

"I don't really know what to say" Blaine started. Finding the words was a little easier than he expected, but they weren't coming naturally by any means. "It just gets mixed up in my head and it stops making any kind of sense. But can I ask you a question instead?"

"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind," Jesse said with a shrug, "but I suppose."

"Do you ever think you and Rachel could work out if you had another chance?" Blaine asked and he felt more alive in that moment that he had over the past week. Maybe it was the simple form of her name on his lips, or the way Jesse's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise, but there was an energy in the air around them as he waited for Jesse's answer as if it would double as Blaine's.

"I didn't get the chance to find out, did I?" Jesse finally said, his words low and thoughtful as he seemed to weight each one before he said them. "I got my feelings hurt, then she ran back to Finn, repeatedly even though I'm clearly the superior choice. What Rachel and I had was intense and that doesn't just end because I cracked an egg over her hair or she kissed her way into a loss at Nationals. But Blaine, people like Rachel and me, we're doomed one way or another. I'm doomed to wonder what might have been."

"Why don't you just tell her?" Blaine asked, fighting around the lump in his throat; the stories were too similar, too close to home and he wasn't sure how he felt about that as the confusion started to seep in again.

"Why would I Blaine?" Jesse challenged, his face falling into hard lines and Blaine felt instantly guilty for upsetting him without telling him anything in return. "Especially now," Jesse continued, "while she has you, it won't make one damn bit of difference."

"She doesn't- I mean we're not – not anymore," Blaine choked, realizing this was the first time he'd actually acknowledged their falling apart out loud; it was a thousand times more painful, but he needed to get it out now while he had the mind to do so because he wasn't sure when it would come again. "We're not like that anymore. I don't know what we are, but we're not that anymore.

"How did that happen?" Jesse inquired.

"Her call. I know a little bit of what that feels like Jesse, to not know, and I really don't know what's going to happen now. I don't even know what I want to happen." Blaine said as he put the lid on the pizza box and stood up. "I wouldn't blame you," he continued, pausing briefly to place his hand on Jesse's shoulder who merely stared up at him without a word. "If you decided to take that chance, I wouldn't blame you."

* * *

><p><em><em>**AN2:** Also, just for clarification since a lot of people have been asking: Blainchel is my OTP so just keep that in mind as we go forward.

_I write, you read, you review, and I write more. I promise._


	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Glee._

**AN: **There is a light, very vague smut. This is your warning.

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER FIVE<strong>

_**BLAINE  
><strong>_It wasn't until the money mysteriously appeared in his bank account and Kurt asked what bus ticket he'd bought that Blaine remembered their plans to travel home for Thanksgiving. Minus Jesse who could have cared less about the holiday, the entire group had decided to keep each other company on the trip back since neither could really afford plane tickets. Of course, that had been a few months ago when Blaine and Rachel were on good terms, or any terms at all. The truth was, anything involving Rachel was unbearably awkward to think about and he couldn't imagine how an hours long bus ride with her would be any better, even with Kurt there to act as a buffer. Try as he might, Blaine couldn't think of any believable reason to renege on their plans, simply saying to Kurt he had been waiting for him and Rachel to make the decision.

Later he would find it ironic how it was Rachel who became his saving grace, but when Kurt picked up the phone and immediately called her, Blaine was in a blind panic. Her bright and cheery voice as she said "hello" was a sting on his skin; he silently begged Kurt to take it off speaker but the other boy merely brushed him aside with a wave of his hand.

"What do you mean you're not coming?" Kurt asked out of concern and Blaine found himself listening in despite the rolling waves in his stomach.

"Opening night is barely two weeks away," Rachel explained quickly, "and while my dad prepares a beautiful vegan alternative and papa's pie is to die for, I can't justify missing four days of rehearsals to celebrate a holiday that, quite frankly, has little appeal to me anyway. They'll understand."

"You love Thanksgiving," Kurt insisted. "You spent the last three years at my place helping Carol perfect your cranberry and walnut stuffing and you know how much my dad loves that. Besides, Finn has been chomping at the bit to see you. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's about to propose again."

"You might be half right," Rachel laughed.

"Rachel Berry, what do you know and what aren't you telling me?" Kurt demanded, a playful smile tugging at his lips as Rachel continued to giggle from her end of the conversation. Blaine listened to them gossip about Finn's serious, stable girlfriend of almost one year; Rachel jokingly wondered if he'd recycle the ring she'd given back to him after their failed relationship while Kurt insisted that even Finn wasn't that dense. Nostalgia washed over Blaine as they spoke, a twinge of longing for a time when he used to be perfectly content just listening to them; before he had messed everything up, before he made strangers out of the people he cared about.

He couldn't quite shake the feeling either as it still lingered when he and Kurt boarded the mostly empty bus to Ohio. He searched out a spot in the back, stretching out over several vacant seats and leaned against the window, arms crossed over his chest and tried to focus on the music blaring through his headphones. He didn't want to talk, didn't want to think, or even appear to exist for the next nine hours but it was difficult to ignore the awkward and hurt looks Kurt kept shooting him over his shoulder from his camp a few rows ahead of him. It became even harder when the glances turned concerned and worried until Kurt finally gave in after their first scheduled stop. He sat one row in front of Blaine, turned backwards in the seat and gazed at him over the back.

Reading Kurt's lips as they formed the words "are you okay?", Blaine didn't bother to take the headphones out of his ears, still intent on ignoring the world. He knew it was petty and he knew that Kurt would take it personally, but Blaine just didn't have it in him to smile and pretend. The question formed on Kurt's lips again and he tried to ignore it once more, but found it extremely difficult as Kurt leaned over the seat and yanked the headphones away from Blaine.

"I don't care if you lie to me Blaine Anderson, but answer me right now," Kurt demanded, tangling the loose cord in his fist. Blaine remained silent; the only act of acknowledgment he gave was the heated glare in Kurt direction, who merely rolled his eyes and said, "that look didn't work on me when we dated, it's not going to work now."

"Can you just leave me alone?" Blaine sighed, shifting in his seat so that he was half turned away from Kurt.

"What's wrong?" Kurt pressed and the empathy in his voice was enough for Blaine to feel a little bit guilty for snubbing him thus far. "Are you sick? Or is this about seeing your dad because I'm sure it's not going to be as bad as you think it is. He did send you the money for the ticket after all."

"It's not anything," Blaine whispered, avoiding Kurt's eye.

"I know we're not the best of friends and I'm not Rachel but-"

"We're friends," Blaine interrupted, if only so that Kurt didn't continue to bring up Rachel's name. There was no telling where that path would lead and he was in no position to travel it with Kurt. It was exhausting just thinking about how careful he would have to be with his words, not letting on that he'd ever seen Rachel as more than a platonic friend, and he knew that if he started talking about her with Kurt, he would crack. Part of him felt like it was time to do so, to just let it all fall out and pick up the pieces where ever they ended up but as badly as he needed a release, he knew it would just end up hurting more in the end. If he confessed everything now, he might end up in New York without any friends left at all.

And Kurt had more than proved himself to be a friend over the past few months. It was definitely time to stop punishing him for sins of the past, especially when Blaine's own were being added into the mix. He wasn't at all blind to the effort that Kurt had put into renewing their relationship and here he was, reaching out once again when it would be much easier to let him go. The thought made him smile, that someone still wanted him, even if it made him feel like a selfish asshole for feeling even remotely happy about it. But it was something and that was better than the nothing he'd been lost in lately.

"We are friends," Blaine repeated, facing Kurt as he said it, "and you're right, it's my dad."

"You're sure?" Kurt said skeptically, his smile a little strained.

"It's just been a bad week for me already," Blaine admitted, knowing how vague it sounded, "and I get to finish it off with the Andersons and a holiday. You know how that goes."

"I know we can make a place for you at our house," Kurt said by way of invitation and a genuine smile graced Blaine's face.

"Thanks," Blaine replied with a short, low chuckle. "I'll keep you in mind."

"Just let me know," Kurt grinned and Blaine extended his arm to clap Kurt on the shoulder, noticing the way Kurt leaned into it. It was familiar, comforting even, and his darker feelings started to slowly ebb away. He nodded when Kurt suggested they could play cards, happy for the distraction and pleasantly surprised to find how much easily he could fall into enjoying Kurt's company. It was becoming easier and easier and when they finally rolled the bus into Ohio, he was sincerely saddened to have to say goodbye.

His good mood seemed to go with Kurt, fading away with every awkward moment he spent greeting his parents and every shallow conversation they attempted to have. It was gone completely by the time his brother Cooper had called to say he couldn't make Thanksgiving dinner, effectively rendering Blaine alone as the rest of the guest list was composed of company men and business prospects his parents would spend the day entertaining. He would have loved nothing more than to escape to the Hudson-Hummel household as Kurt had suggested, but his father insisted he stay and help him to maintain his appearance as a family man.

"What's the point?" he had asked his mother the night before, head in her lap as she stroked his hair; a rare comfort, but one he desperately needed. "He hasn't exactly been supportive of me lately."

"That's not true sweetie," his mother said gently. "He was there for you last year, remember? And just a month ago, he found a bunch of your old prom photos hidden away in one of your boxes in the attic. I came home and he had hung them all up in the foyer, including the ones of you and Kurt. They're still there, too," she said, beaming with pride. "I know it can be confusing for you when your father has a hard time showing it, but he is always, without fail, on your side. Especially if you can't see it right away."

His mother had said similar things to him over the years, but Blaine had never really believed her, unable to see the proof. As he stared dumbfounded at the collage of photos displayed proudly in the center of the wall, her truth finally started to sink in. There were pictures of him jumping on Mike's back, dancing with Brittany and Santana, helping Quinn carry a tray of drinks to the group's table, but most importantly, right there in the middle, the biggest photograph of them all, was of him and Kurt. They were grinning from ear to ear, looking blatantly like a couple with their arms wrapped tightly around one another in coordinating suits of Kurt's design. Blaine remembered how his father fussed about the extra cost, but also how he paid for it all in the end. Little moments like that began springing up in his mind, scattered across memories that he used to recall in bitterness, only to find him now with a hesitant smile.

It was for this reason alone that he stayed for the better part of the holiday party, waiting to excuse himself at least an hour after dinner. "Call me if you need anything," his father said as he handed Blaine the car keys. "Thank you for staying son. I'm proud of you."

"You too Dad," Blaine said with a wide smile as he gathered his coat. His father gazed at him sheepishly, a light blush dusting his temple. Blaine could feel his own blush creep up on him, in the same place. "I love you."

"Go on," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Get out of here. Enjoy the rest of the day away from us boring old gluttons."

Blaine didn't really have a set destination as he drove through the nearly empty streets. He knew Kurt and his family would be more than welcoming if he were to stop by, but he found himself wandering aimlessly in the opposite direction as he sang along with the radio. All the familiar landmarks passed by him – his old friends' houses, William McKinley High School, The Lima Bean a little further away, and the road to Dalton even farther than that – but he didn't feel the desire to stop and it was then he realized that his restless and nostalgic feelings weren't for Ohio, but for New York, He missed the city, the lights, the energy; he missed the people he knew and the person he was when he was there.

But since he couldn't very well drive to New York in his father's car, he did eventually stop at a tiny family-run coffee shop he and Wes had found a few years ago that prided itself on being open every day of the year. A kind elderly woman brewed a fresh pot of French roast for him while her niece offered Blaine a slice of homemade pie left over from their dinner. He accepted both, assuring them that it was more than enough as they disappeared back into the kitchen. He made his way towards the corner table he knew was hidden behind their dessert counter, nearly dropping everything in surprise to find that there was already someone there; a girl sat on the padded bench with her laced-up boot clad feet propped up in the table, leaning against the wall with a smirk on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her blonde hair fell in short waves around her oval face, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Her full lips parted and she spoke in a familiar smoky voice: "Babe Anderson, fancy meeting you here."

He tried to keep a straight face and fight back the laugh that threatened to bubble over. "I believe this is my table miss," he answered back, the corners of his lip betraying him as they curved into a smile.

"I do believe my name is on it, sir," she replied in the same fashion, pointing to a paper place-mat where she had clearly doodled her name in bold, curving letters surrounded by a series of hearts: Michelle.

"And so it is," Blaine laughed, sitting down across the table from her. "Is there room for me?"

"There's always room for you babe," she laughed, scrawling his name next to where he'd set down his coffee before jumping up and sliding into his lap, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as his own circled her waist. She pulled back slightly and stared at him with a thoughtful expression; studying him was more accurate, he supposed, as he was doing the same to her. Her hair was shorter than the last time he'd seen her, falling only to her shoulder instead of her waist, but it was the same beach blonde it had always been. She still managed to have a light tan even in the beginnings of the winter months, her blue eyes striking in contrast. Her smile still lit up the room, drawing him to her like a magnet and with just a simple giggle, he felt lighter and happier than he had in weeks. She hadn't changed, it seemed, and somehow that was the most comforting thing in the world.

"You look amazing," she finally said, still on his lap.

"As always, you look incredible Michelle," he answered, weaving a hand through her short locks and tugging briefly on the ends. "I like your haircut."

She fixed him with a withering glare. "You haven't seen me in months and you want to talk about my hair?"

"I was trying to make casual conversation, Michelle," Blaine replied, ducking quickly to avoid the hand he knew was aimed towards his head. He successfully avoided her slap – which had never hurt, even when she put effort into them – but forgot about her propensity to kick him whenever she was annoyed. Her boots dug into his shin and he yelped in surprise.

"Screw casual conversation Blaine," she scoffed, sliding off his lap and returning to her side of the table as he rubbed the offended spot on his leg. "I want to hear about New York and you're not allowed to leave anything out."

He found it incredibly easy to tell her about the city; the things he loved, the things he hated, the things he already missed versus the things he missed here in Ohio. She poised all the right questions and genuinely seemed to enjoy his ramblings. It was one of the many things he's initially liked about Michelle when he'd met her last year. She had the ability to listen, really listen, to what he had to say, and thought they were interesting. When they differed, she never brushed his opinions aside, but rather listened to him and then explained why she didn't agree. Michelle made him feel important, back then when they had dated, and even now after being gone from each other for so long.

She really had been an amazing, unbelievable person to come into his life. His entire existence had been built around the notion that he liked boys and it was fear of losing that self-identity that kept him from being honest about his occasional interest in girls. She wasn't the first he'd had them for but she was the first to fully bring them out of him. She pushed him to come to terms with parts of himself that he'd always been afraid to address, not just his sexuality, but his need to conform, to please others before himself, to run away when life got hard. Michelle and his relationship with her, whether romantic or platonic, was one of the biggest reasons he was who he was. He might still be changing and maybe he'd never fully figure it out, but he was a better person because of her influence, and for that, he loved her. If he never saw her again after his evening, he would walk away knowing that.

"But you're going back to school next semester right?" Michelle prompted as he finished telling her about his suspension and current living situation, armed with many questions about Jesse.

"I have to go to a hearing about that at the first of the year," Blaine answered, sipping his cold coffee as he had forgotten about it during their conversation, "but I think it'll be okay. A few of the guys who saw the fight said they'd talk to the board on my behalf. I'll probably be on probation for a little while, but they'll let me back in. I hope so anyway."

"God, but Kurt really gets under your skin," Michelle said with a shake of her head. "He's still not fighting his own fights I see."

"Seth was coming after me, not Kurt," Blaine said, perhaps a little too defensively as Michelle raised her arms in surrender and leaned back into her seat away from him.

"I know, I know," she said quickly, "but you said yourself you probably wouldn't have done anything if he hadn't started in on Kurt. I get it babe, he was your first boyfriend, your first love, your first dick in your ass, whatever. But unless he's your boyfriend, I don't understand why you feel like you need to protect him all the time."

"He's a friend, and if you don't stand up for your friends, why bother having them in the first place?" Blaine challenged.

"You would do the same for me? Or this Jesse guy?" was her rebuttal. "You wouldn't because you know that we could handle it ourselves."

"I'd do it for Rachel," he supplied.

"Yes well, Rachel's quite the exception, isn't she?" Michelle smirked, her eyes lifted with a satire of innocence.

"What makes you say that?" he asked warily as she made a show of shrugging her shoulders before heaving a deep, affected sigh.

"From what you've told me about her – which was probably more information than I ever needed to know about someone I've never met – Rachel can more than handle herself," Michelle began, "and you like that about her, but there's a lot of things you like about her. Now for whatever reason, you've let yourself get sucked back into Kurt Hummel's vortex, though you're not sleeping with him yet and I know you're not into Jesse because you don't talk about him with stars in your eyes so someone is holding you back from being with Kurt. And babe, I love you, but you're not strong enough to keep yourself away from him. So simple math tells me there's more to Rachel than you're telling me."

"You're deducing my love life with math?" he tried to distract her, knowing it was in vain.

"Well, that and the stars in your eyes," she grinned triumphantly.

His head dropped to the table with a loud thud and his arms moved to cross behind his neck. "Am I really that obvious?" he groaned, more to himself than to Michelle, wondering why he and Rachel had put so much effort into hiding the nature of their relationship if old friends could figure it out just by looking at them. Jesse had done it and now Michelle and considering how much strain keeping the secret had caused, it all seemed pointless to him now. Losing Rachel over a secret that neither of them had really kept, it was so stupid. He was stupid; stupid for punishing her for it, for pushing her away, and for what he couldn't even say anymore.

It wasn't until he felt Michelle's hand rubbing circles into his back that he realized he'd been talking the whole time, spilling his emotional guts to his ex-girlfriend and suddenly he could understand why Rachel was so quick to give into Jesse; at least she had someone to talk to about all of this. He was on the verge of frustrated tears, confused and upset, and so tired of trying to keep it all inside.

"It's all my fault," he admitted as he told her about their break-up that couldn't really be called a break-up, " and I just don't know what to do Michelle. She hasn't talked to me since that night and I can't even think of her without getting irrationally angry or wallowing in self-pity."

"Babe, I am so sorry," she whispered in his hear as she hugged him tightly. "I had no idea, I just though you had a crush."

"I don't know what I had because we never talked about it," he said, the words digging deep into his soul, piercing as he forced the truth to come out. "We were lying to ourselves, saying it was casual. There was too much going on for it to be casual and why do I do this to myself? I get involved in something and I start to drown and I can't breathe. So I pretend it's not important, or that it's not as bad as it feels, or that I'm okay with the way things are and I'm not. I'm not and I can't get out of it. And I can't get Kurt out of my head either and I know there's no moving forward with anything until I figure them both out, but I can't figure Rachel out until I figure Kurt out and figuring Kurt out means that Rachel gets pushed aside, and I-"

"Babe, stop," Michelle interrupted, clasping a hand over his mouth. "Breathe. Stop talking. Listen." She waited until he nodded, not bothering to move her hand as she spoke. "I will never pretend to understand the hold that Kurt has over you, but you convinced yourself to use him as a reason to hide from a very real relationship you could have had with Rachel. Neither of you wanted to hurt his feelings, but the exact instant you felt yourself getting serious with Rachel, you both should have come clean with Kurt. His approval doesn't even matter, but you let it matter.

"This is exactly what happened with you and me," she said sadly, her hand moving to trace his jaw. "We were never meant to be a forever kind of deal, I know that. But we could have had so much longer if you didn't make Kurt a part of our relationship. Because it doesn't work like that; if you're going to be with Rachel – with anyone at all – it has to be you and Rachel and not you, Rachel, and Kurt. Kurt only matters if you're dating Kurt."

"I can't just leave him behind," Blaine argued.

"He did that to you Blaine!" she yelled, no longer bothering to be gently with him as she held his chin in such a way that forced him to keep staring at her. "He went to New York and the second he found something new, he left you in the dust. You owe him nothing. Keeping him in your life, that's your choice and your choices, my dear, are still centered around him. So ask yourself, why and what do you want out of it?"

"What do I want out of it?" he repeated, the question foreign to his ears.

"You, Blaine," she stressed. "You have to be about you, or everything will continue to fall apart around you and you are too beautiful, too amazing, too kind to let other people in this world destroy you. Don't you dare let that happen to you. Stand up. Stop fighting other people's battles and fight some of your own. Start with Rachel, start with Kurt, but start somewhere."

"What if I don't know how to do that?" he whispered helplessly.

"You know how," Michelle insisted, voice sweet and low in his ear. "You just can't do it all at once babe. That's when you start to drown, as you said. Just take it one step at a time and call me anytime you feel like you need a rescue team."

"Team implies more than one person," he chuckled.

"I'm already more than you can handle," she laughed, patting his cheek lovingly.

He left the cafe feeling like some of the weight had been lifted off him and, in a way, he supposed it had as he now had someone willing to help him carry it. He still had no idea how to move forward, only that he knew he needed to because Michelle was right; it was up to him to decide what he wanted to come out of the mess he'd made. Kurt was the harder question and the one he was starting to understand needed a real answer. But he didn't feel in danger of losing Kurt the way he was losing Rachel and the only thing he was truly clear on was that he wasn't willing to compromise his friendship with her anymore. If keeping her in his life meant going back to being just friends, truly and just that, then he could force himself to do it. He just had to convince her to do the same.

As he passed through the foyer of his home, the photo collage of his prom jumped out at him again and he instantly knew what he needed. He had less than a day to find the box, but he would search all night if he had to, just as long as he found what he knew would still be in there. It had to be; his first step forward hinged on it.

-:-

_**RACHEL  
><strong>_She hadn't been lying when she told Kurt that it was better for her to skip Thanksgiving in favor of putting in extra rehearsals. Most of the cast – aside from some of the student parts – were staying over the holiday and putting in workshop days. They literally worked from seven in the morning until well after the sun set, thought it was kind of a revolving door as some people left and others came in. What she had lied about however, was how much she really wanted to go. She missed her dads and after the fall out with Blaine, she just wanted to curl up in their arms and find something that felt like home again.

But with the exception of that first night, Rachel had been able to keep her emotions in check as she poured herself into classroom assignments and play rehearsals and it was this odd sense of pride that kept her from breaking down and crying in the privacy of her apartment. Her frantic energy kept her from dwelling on Blaine, but if she actually saw him, looked into his eyes without knowing what she might find there, she wasn't positive she could keep up her carefully constructed walls. It was irritating on one hand because she'd sworn off sobbing over boys and heartache after her split with Finn, but she knew this would have to be an exception. She'd let herself fall further than she was prepared for, convinced it was okay because it was her best friend, because Blaine would never let her heart break again.

She knew she'd done the right thing by pulling back, but she still felt, if not heart broken, a little bit cracked. It pained her even more to think Blaine could be feeling the same way and if his avoidance of her was any indication, he was. Not that she had made much of an effort to see him either. The phrase "clean break" floated through her mind and each time, it made her angry that a part of her could even consider Blaine was something she had to break away from.

"It's okay to miss him," Jesse said Thanksgiving evening as she turned in a slow circle on stage, trying to catch her breath. "It's part of the mourning process."

"He didn't die, Jesse," she snapped, walking back to center stage and planting her feet in the opening position of the choreography. She didn't ask how he knew - didn't care really - since he always seemed to know everything regardless if she told him or not. All she wanted was focus and direction. She wanted to not be her for a little while and he was wasting her opportunity to do so by bringing up her failed relationship with Blaine. Not that he should even care, he wasn't a fan of it to begin with. "Watch my blocking for me."

"Your blocking is perfect," he replied even has he corrected her hip placement with the flat of his palm on her waist. "You're acting like he did."

She shook her head and spun away from his touch, letting her body lead her in a dance she knew as second nature by now. She could vaguely make out Jesse calling her back. "Listen to me." Left foot down, right leg arched. She wouldn't do this. "Rachel. Stop." Back stretched, arms curled. She wouldn't let him distract her. "Quit pushing so hard". In. Out. Leap. Blaine wasn't here. Jesse didn't matter. "You're hurting yourself." Brace the ankle, fold, dive. It wasn't his voice screaming in her head. Half turn, up again. Don't fall. Don't get hurt. Don't put your heart on the line. Don't let it sneak away from you. Don't.

She hit the floor hard and it wasn't so much the pain that stopped her from getting up but the sudden, jarring sense that everything had gone wrong. Everything. It was supposed to be in her control. She was supposed to be able to handle it. She was done being wrong and stupid and making all the same mistakes. She was right now, it was all supposed to be right and easy and it just wasn't and how could she be expected to keep up if everything ran away from her.

"Damn it Rachel," Jesse whispered as he sat down on the stage next to where she had fallen. He gently pried her injured wrist away from her chest, nimble fingers sussing out the damage. It was barely a sprain, but the pain wasn't coming from her hand. It was overwhelming and suddenly too much and she doubled over in shame as all the tears she'd fought so hard against escaped. Jesse wrapped his arms around her in comfort, but that only seemed to make things worse as the tears fell even faster, her breathe dissolving into dry gasping heaves.

"I don't know what I did!" she choked, burying her face into Jesse's shoulder. "I don't understand. I don't. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to feel like this."

He let her cry, folding her into his lap and rocking her back and forth, whispering a million words that she couldn't even pretend to understand until she finally calmed down enough to realize the theater had completely emptied save the pair of them. She was still shaking a little, her frazzled nerves doing her no favors, but at least she didn't feel like she was going to fall apart. Jesse was like an anchor at that moment, holding her in place so she didn't drift away and an overwhelming sense of gratitude washed over her.

She had meant to hug him, to say thank you, to apologize for ruining his shirt, but somehow her hands ended up in his hair, pushing his wavy bangs back from his eyes. They lingered, running lightly along the edge of his jaw, moving across his cheekbone, tracing the shape of his lips. His eyes closed momentarily and she leaned forward, pressing her mouth against his. It wasn't anything more than that, no searching and begging, no tongue, no teeth. Just heat and the pure need for a physical touch, she knew that immediately, but she couldn't convince herself to stop.

It was Jesse who pulled away, silent as he turned his head from her. His eyes were still closed but the rest of him wasn't nearly as relaxed. If he hadn't been sitting on the floor with her in his lap, she would have sworn he was poised to run. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him this time, and pressed her forehead into the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry," she whispered and he gulped, a knot in his throat. "I know I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

"Why did you?" he asked in a heavy voice.

"Because I miss him," she responded truthfully even though she knew it might hurt him, but she was too exhausted to hide the real reasons behind a mask of kindness.

"Good," Jesse finally said, the word unexpected. She unwrapped herself from his embrace just enough to be able to look him in the face. She expected the sadness she found, but it was the glimmer of happiness underneath his guarded expression that surprised her. It wasn't malicious or mocking, just a hint of a smile playing at his lips, the crinkled corners to his eyes. "You kissed me and I liked it," he said in what she took to be an explanation. "Just don't do it again unless it's really me you're kissing."

She could only nod in silent agreement as he helped her stand up. They locked up the theater and his walked her home. She had half a mind to ask him to come upstairs with her, but she knew it wouldn't really be him she was asking to stay over and with her promise to him fresh in her mind, she was determined to keep it. She wasn't going to ruin another relationship just because she was lonely and needy and given her particular history already with Jesse, she wasn't sure they would survive another go around like that. But he was intact now and she wasn't quite there yet herself.

She would be okay though, she thought. She could already feel herself piecing back together; her breaking down seemed to have done some good at least. It still hurt, but like the pain in her wrist, it would pass. The things that were meant to be fixed would be and the things that were meant to be left behind, those would fall away. She just had to wait and see where the remaining pieces would land.

-:-

Kurt called her as soon as he made it back into town Sunday afternoon, warning her that he probably wouldn't make it to their classes the next day as Finn had brought home a nasty cold with him for the holiday. She doted over him, offering to bring him soup and her Streisand collection, but he declined in favor of crawling into his bed to die. She couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics, her heart lighter now that she didn't feel constantly guilty for keeping secrets from him. Still, she listened carefully for any mention of Blaine, who still hadn't contacted her at all, but apart from their shared bus ride, it didn't sound like the two boys had spent any of of the break together.

She didn't want to feel relief over this, and it was selfish and awful, but it did a good deal for her piece of mind to know that Blaine had spent his holiday alone like she had. It seemed easier to potentially fix their broken relationship if Blaine were single than if he had come back to New York once again involved with Kurt. And that's what she was going to do after all, fix them. If he wanted to. If he even still cared. It was all the ifs that had started keeping her up again at night and as she hung up with Kurt, she vowed she would find Blaine the next day and force him to talk to her.

She should be used to her plans not working out, but it was still a shock to open the door later that evening to what looked like, on first impression, a walking tower of take out boxes and shopping bags that turned out to be an overly energetic Blaine. He tried to say something in greeting, but with a bag between his teeth, she couldn't really make it out. All she knew was that he was grinning and his eyes were bright and it was directed towards her for the first time in what seemed like years. It was wonderful and infectious and she knew before the words "I'm sorry" ever made it past his lips that she would forgive him anything.

"What is all this?" she asked, taking the bag from his mouth and setting it on the counter as he did the same.

"Everything you've ever liked that I could remember," he said, quickly taking several items out of the bags, naming them off as he put them on display in front of her. She managed to spot a batch of vegan muffins – apple cinnamon crumble – and several packets of gold star stickers before they were covered up by a new copy of My Fair Lady to replace the one she'd lost last month. Eventually, the bags emptied and with a flourish, Blaine took out the last box, prying the top off as he announced, "and if you haven't had dinner yet, I got that spicy mexi-cali rice and bean mix from the diner."

"This is all very sweet Blaine," she said with a smile, trying to keep her happiness from overtaking her common sense, "but what is it for?"

"I'm a jackass," he said with a shrug and started throwing the bags into her recycling bin. "I really messed things up, again, and I didn't think a simple apology was going to make up for all that I did. So, this is me, buying your affection."

She chuckled, rolling her eyes as she started to remove the plastic wrapping from her new movie. "The apology would have done just fine," she said, "but I do like gifts."

"I want to show you something," he said suddenly as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket. From the back, he slipped out what looked to be nothing more than a scrap of slightly battered paper until he flipped it around and suddenly she was staring at her own smiling face.

She remembered the moment well; it had been her senior year, his junior, and prom had actually turned out to be fun that year. She'd been snapping pictures all night and it wasn't until they were leaving for Puck's house that Blaine forced the camera around on her. She'd tried to shy away, insisting that she only wanted pictures of other people, of memories, when he'd stretched his arm out and kissed her on the cheek, the flash going off at just the right moment. It had been her favorite of the night, and the first thing she recalled about her senior prom.

"I know what happened between us was my fault. I hurt you and that is the last thing I ever want to do. You were right to stop it when you did, but these people are friends," he stated, pointing to the photo as he sat down next to her. "We might be a few years older, but we're still those people where it counts. So let's just go back to that."

"Can we?" She asked hopefully.

"Yes," he insisted, "and it starts tonight, if you want it to."

"Stay," she grinned, passing him a fork and nudging her dinner towards him. "I'm sorry too," she said as he took his first bite, knowing it was the only chance she had to say anything before he took all the blame on himself. "I let things that had nothing to do with us get between us and then I used them against you."

He simply nodded, and leaned over quickly before she had a chance to pull away, kissing her check and covering the spot with his palm. She tried to think of the last time he'd done that to her and left it at just that corny, friendly gesture. It had been entirely too long, but having it happen now, so naturally was the greatest feeling in the world. This was a testament to who they were together, their friendship, and that was all she needed to from him to move forward. They weren't irreparable after all.

They ended up staying up all night until he finally fell asleep on her couch. She slept in and missed her morning classes, only leaving when Blaine finally roused and declared he had to go to work. They'd repeated this routine a few times over the previous months but as he left her apartment, she knew this would be the last time. He wouldn't stay the night any longer, she wouldn't put off starting her morning just to let him sleep a little longer. This truly was an ending, but it didn't hurt as much as it had before. Knowing that her greatest fear of ruining all she had with him had passed, she could breathe a little easier.

-:-

December came quickly and _Cabaret _opened without a hitch, Blaine and Kurt in the third row roaring with appreciation by the final curtain call. She had run backstage and practically tackled Jesse to the ground after taking her bows and listened to him gush about how incredible she had been. She was floating on air as her cast mates, the dean of the school, even Professor Rosenbaum who she's been so sure hated her came by to congratulate her. As she walked home alone in the early hours of dawn, she knew it was one of the greatest nights of her life. She didn't need anything more than a song, a stage, and an audience; it was nice to be reminded of it occasionally.

Rebuilding her friendship with Blaine came simpler to her after this as she stopped worrying about if they would fall back into old habits. She did have to admit that things were different, that sleeping together had changed them in ways she was blinded to until after they'd stopped. He would start to say things and suddenly stop to change the subject or refuse to continue all together. She caught herself doing the same thing. They talked about almost everything, but Kurt and Jesse were off-limits unless it was a casual conversation. Real feelings and discussions didn't happen and any time one of them tried to breach the subject, they would lapse into an awkward silence. She missed being so candid with Blaine, but she also knew she couldn't push the issue on him, especially if she herself wasn't quite ready to deal with it herself. After all, that was one of the things that wrecked their previous relationship and she'd be damned if she made the same mistake with him again.

The thing they had managed to talk about and agree upon was that there was no point in telling Kurt about them now. It was over, done with, and he would only want to sort through the details they didn't have. She could hear his voice in her head as he demanded she tell him exactly how she felt about Blaine, what they had done, for how long, how she could keep this from him knowing how he still felt about his ex. He would be right to ask those questions and she felt guilty all over again for hiding the truth from him, but she could only see it hurting him. Especially since, as Christmas began it's rapid approach, Kurt had grown melancholic and reserved.

"I'm not a pathetic single," he said sadly during science lab on day, "but I was out shopping for Carol yesterday and I saw this fabulous Rag & Bone cardigan in the window of Barney's. All I could think of was how beautiful it would look on Blaine and how I couldn't buy it for him because we're not a couple anymore."

"Well it's just a sweater," Rachel said kindly, her heart twisting in her chest as Kurt's frown deepened still. "It could be considered a friendly gift."

"We're not three hundred dollars for Christmas friends," Kurt argued with a shake of his head. "We're fifty dollar friends, maybe, as long as it's not too personal or too thought about."

"I thought you were okay with just being friends though," and she wasn't sure what kind of answer she hoped to hear even as she said it, but it was increasingly important to her to be a supportive friend to make up for effectively lying to Kurt for months and this was the only way she knew how to do it.

"I am," he said too quickly to be believable. "I was. I don't know anymore really. It was easy to convince myself that being his friend was enough when he was never around. I can't tell if I'm just losing my mind and imagining it or if this is really happening, but I ever since Thanksgiving, I feel like he's everywhere. All I know is at some point, it stopped being easy and I have a hard time letting him go. "

According to Jesse, Kurt wasn't imagining things at all. When he used to assume that Blaine had disappeared to see Rachel, he was now going to see Kurt. His nights started getting longer and longer, though he had so far always come home. Alone, Jesse was sure to point out to her and she caught him once or twice watching her for a reaction. She couldn't be sure what he read in her expression; she was happy that Blaine was going on with his life, but she wasn't sure how she felt if he was going on about it with Kurt. It just seemed sudden to her, though she knew that wasn't true.

Suddenly everything Kurt had said to her began to make sense. It was harder to just be Blaine's friend if she couldn't let go of him and she could see how Kurt might feel so lost with him around. It was hard enough for Rachel and she felt like she and Blaine had at least tried to talk things through after they fell apart. Kurt never had that, and if she were honest, neither had Blaine. They were both so frightened of the subject and of what it might bring up. Blaine had been so adamant that he wanted to keep Kurt at arm's length, but Kurt had worked towards a friendship and it had been the best thing for both of them, she was convinced. Except Kurt was still hurting over all that was left unsaid.

"How have things been with you and Kurt?" she asked Blaine one night, indulging herself the small pleasure of playing with the ends of his hair as he laid his head in her lap and stretched out on her couch.

He didn't answer right away and she could hear his breath hitching in his chest. "They're okay," he eventually whispered and even without looking at him, she could tell he had more to say. So she pressed him for more information, slipping in little hints wherever she could, anything to get him to open up to her. Finally, with a sigh, he said, "They're getting a little confusing. I feel like he's expecting more and more from me when we hang out."

"Like out of your relationship?" she asked, more for his benefit than her own since she knew Kurt's intentions.

He nodded then, with a groan, sat up and hid his face behind his hands. "I'm sorry," was his muffled response. "It's not fair to talk to you about this."

"I don't mind," Rachel said, a false smile on her face. "Kurt's a hard person to cut out of your life. I wouldn't blame you if you were starting to have feelings for him again."

"What if I'm not though?" Blaine asked thoughtfully, guilt clouding his features as he seemed to stare past her wall at something only he could see. "Or maybe I am, but what if they're not good enough for Kurt? What if he's still more involved in me than I am in him? Would that be fair to him; or to me? And what if I'm just lonely and Kurt is available and I hurt us both when I realize this?"

"Maybe that's why you should take a chance on it," she suggested as enthusiastically as she could, which judging by the look of pure disbelief Blaine sent in her direction, wasn't nearly as convincing as she hoped it would be. "Please don't misunderstand me, I don't want you do to anything you don't want to do but would it really be so bad to try things again with Kurt? At least maybe you'll be able to answer some of those questions you both have and finally get a little closure."

"Where is this coming from?" Blaine whispered, the skepticism in his voice apparent. He scooted closer to her on the couch, their knees less than an inch away from touching, and she didn't know what to say. She would be lying if she told him she had no ulterior motives – she wanted Kurt to find some peace so she could stop feeling so guilty and even more selfishly, she wanted her own answers to Blaine's questions – but she didn't know how to respond without dragging their own history into it. "Is that what you want?" he asked, eyes searching her own.

"I want you to not be confused anymore," she admitted as much, though she could see in his changing expression that he detected there was more to her answer. But she wouldn't say it. It wasn't important anymore. "I just want you to be happy."

"You think Kurt will make me happy?" he asked with a pointed, almost daring look.

"I don't know," she said, "but neither do you."

-:-

It was the last week of school before Christmas break started when Kurt announced that Blaine had decided to stay in New York for the holiday. Rachel had been so wrapped up in studying for finals and making arrangements to visit her dads for Hanukkah that she hadn't bothered to ask either of them what their plans were. She had assumed that they would all go back together, like the plan had been for Thanksgiving before she backed out.

"It's his first Christmas in the city, he said," Kurt explained in a whisper as they studied in their library for their respective literature tests. "He wants to stay and do all the touristy things like see the lights at Lincoln Center and the tree at Rockefeller. He wants to go ice skating on Thursday, like we can't do that in Lima."

"It's hardly the same thing," she giggled.

"It's so cliche though," Kurt laughed. "I mean, he's been here since the end of June, you think he'd be used to it all by now."

"I think it's sweet," she said, automatically jumping to Blaine's defense. "He still finds the city exciting and I recall you saying almost the exact same thing last week."

"Yes, but I was being ironic when I said it," Kurt smirked with a roll of his eyes. "Blaine is actually genuinely looking forward to this; he even asked me to go with him. Of course, I told him no but-."

"Why wouldn't you?" Rachel asked, trying to keep her voice steady even as her mind reeled. Blaine hadn't said anything to her about any of them; hadn't asked her if she wanted to join them, implied that he might want some company. She felt blindsided, betrayed in a way, even though she knew she'd practically forced this on herself.

"Because I don't want to go ice skating," Kurt remarked as if it were the simplest thing in the world. She knew she should just let it go, let Kurt waste an opportunity to see Blaine even if she would never do the same, let Blaine use it as just another reason to keep Kurt at arm's length. But she remembered Blaine's frenzied confusion and Kurt's hidden sadness and she couldn't leave it alone, however much a part of her wanted to.

"Use it as an excuse to wear a new scarf," she coaxed, "or those new skinny jeans you go the other day at-"

"I don't want to go!" Kurt shouted at her, causing her to jump in her seat. Her sympathy seemed to vanish, evaporate into a boiling anger. All she was trying to do was help. It wasn't her fault he was insecure with his relationship with Blaine – even if sometimes she felt like it was – and he had no right to take it out on her. She gathered her books and stuffed them in her bag, not bothering to retrieve the notes that fluttered to the floor as she stood up.

"Blaine wants you to go," she said heatedly, flipping her hair over her shoulder, "and Kurt? He didn't ask me."

She didn't bother to look back at her friend as she stormed out the library doors into the cold December air. She was done, she decided, trying to coddle them. It was stupid of her to try and put them together in the first place. If they were meant to be, they could do it themselves and if that didn't happen, well then so be it. Juggling three love lives was exhausting and she was just done with it all. Done.

-:-

_**BLAINE  
><strong>_Blaine tied up his skates, tucking the ends of his jeans into the shoe before he double-knotted the laces. It would be harder to take them off later, but after Cooper had broken his arm tripping on loose strings when he was fifteen, Blaine still wasn't taking any chances with them. Especially since he had ended up coming to Rockefeller Center alone, he didn't want a bunch of strangers hovering over him if something more embarrassing than falling on his ass happened. It had been a few years since he'd actually gone ice skating, but it only took him about half-way around the rink to find his rhythm and his mind started wandering almost immediately after.

He'd come back from Lima after Thanksgiving feeling very optimistic and after Rachel seemed to welcome him with open arms, having missed him as much as he missed her, he thought they were back on the friendship track. He couldn't help his mind from wondering if they could try for more, but do it the right way the second time around, but then she started to close down on him. Not much, and only a little bit at a time, but it was enough to make a difference and he didn't know what he could do to change it. So he let it happen, hoping that at some point they could figure it out.

Michelle thought it important to remind him that ignoring their issues was what caused him to lose Rachel in the first place and she encouraged him to press the matter. So he tried, willed her to open up to him and tell him what she really wanted from him, but it backfired on him in a way he hadn't really been prepared for. Instead of talking about them, she practically shoved him into Kurt's arms. It had hurt, a lot, listening to her explain that he should give Kurt a second look all in the name of closure.

It wasn't that she was completely wrong in her reasoning, but hearing it come so easily from her somehow made him feel like he'd been replaced in her life already. It hadn't even been a full month; he was still sorting through the aftermath but she had moved on no problem. It was petty, maybe, but he couldn't help but wonder how much she had really been invested in them if she could shake him off so easily.

People who really mattered in your life, they stuck to you, so maybe she was right in that way or maybe she could see something he couldn't when it came to Kurt. Because it had been over a year for them, but Blaine certainly still felt stuck to Kurt. It wasn't always pleasant, or easy, but it was always there. Lately, it had been good. He could see the boy he'd originally fell in love, though a little more mature and refined and it brought a smile to his face late at night when he thought of him. His stomach had flipped a little bit when he asked Kurt to go skating with him, only to plummet even further when he'd declined.

Which only made things worse, in Blaine's opinion. He'd put himself out there, twice, for two different people, and neither of them had reciprocated, for whatever reasons they had. He couldn't think of where he'd gone so wrong and the questions were slowly driving him insane. They had been for months, if he were honest, and all he wanted were some real answers. It was up to him to find them, he knew that, but he couldn't do it all on his own. Not when it came to Rachel, but especially not when it came to Kurt because he suspected, now more than ever, that the older boy had all the same questions.

"Blaine!" His head snapped up and he momentarily lost his balance, gripping the wall for support as he looked around for the source of the noise.

He saw the scarf – long and bright red – before he actually saw the rest of Kurt break through the crowd, breathing fast and face pink from the cold. He nearly ran into a pair of twins and spun out of the way, stumbling against the wall. Blaine hurried forwards, catching Kurt by the waist before he fell on the ice and brought them both to a safe, balanced stop.

"Oh my God, you are really fast on those," Kurt said in short breaths, motioning to his skates.

"Cooper and I used to race," Blaine explained. "What are you doing here?"

"I was hoping you still needed a skating partner," he grinned, pulling his hat down to cover his ears that were turning a violent shade of crimson. Blaine gave him a questioning look, Kurt's face falling momentarily before he took another deep breath. Blaine could see that he was trying to steady himself and stayed quiet as Kurt spoke once more. "I should have agreed to come in the first place. I said no because I was scared but I don't want to give you another reason to push me away. Unless I'm too late."

A breathy laugh escaped him and he knew it sounded harsh and condescending, like he was mocking Kurt. But it was just the opposite; this was what Blaine had been waiting for. This was the moment he needed to take even the tiniest step forward. It was relief that caused him to laugh. "You're just in time," Blaine finally said with a ridiculously wide smile, taking Kurt's gloved hand in his own.

Kurt was the first one to grow tired, having never really skated the way Blaine had and begged to sit down with a gallon of coffee, if possible. Blaine took pity on the boy and after battling the knots in his skates, they found the nearest Starbucks to thaw out. Kurt looked the happiest Blaine had seen him in a long time and even he had to admit, he was having a good time as well. They trifled through small talk for a little while, Kurt becoming more and more animated as his skin returned to it's normal glow.

"Can I be blunt?" Kurt blurted out after he finished telling him about his English final. Blaine had his suspicions about what Kurt might say, but waved his hand in encouragement nonetheless. "I want to be more than friends with you. I just need to know if there's a shot of us having that or if my New Year's resolution needs to be to get over Blaine Anderson."

"We cannot just pick up from last year," Blaine answered, surprised at how easily it seemed to come to him as if it had always been ready on the tip of his tongue without his knowledge. Kurt blanched and opened his mouth but Blaine spoke faster before he could interrupt. "We're not starting over because you really hurt me Kurt. If this is going to even have a chance of working this time around, we have to work on it."

He'd never seen anyone's eyes light up as fast as Kurt's did in that moment. "I'll let you be as needy and jealous and insecure as you need to be," he promised as his smile grew with each passing second.

"I'm not done yet," Blaine said seriously and he fought to keep his voice steady. This was the most important part; if Kurt couldn't agree to this, there would be no way to go forward. He had to understand. "I have think I have feelings for you, but they're not the same as they used to be and I can't and won't guarantee they ever will be again."

Kurt became unreadable in that moment, his face falling into a perfect blank page. "That's hard for me to accept," he said quietly and Blaine could see that he was warring with himself. Slowly, a tiny smile fluttered across his face and he whispered, "If you don't rule it out, can I still be in love with you?"

"I can't tell you what to feel Kurt," Blaine said, returning his smile in similar fashion, a light blush spreading across his cheeks.

"And I can't make you feel anything you don't," Kurt reasoned, nodding his head, eyes shining with their previous light and Blaine couldn't help but let some of Kurt's enthusiasm seep into him as well.

"As long as we're on the same page," Blaine laughed and when Kurt reached to hold his hand, he didn't pull away.

-:-

He should have known he would end up here, climbing ten flights of stairs and knocking on her apartment door at eleven o'clock at night. This is where he always ended up; it was a like a magnet somehow, pulling him towards her but she deserved to know and no amount of common sense or convincing himself otherwise would let him leave it until morning. She needed to hear it from him, but more than that, he needed to tell her himself. He needed to air it all out in front of her.

Rachel answered the door and he could tell Kurt had beaten him to the punch. Maybe he'd called her when Blaine left him at the front of his dorm building, maybe he'd texted her, but either way she knew. "I wanted to tell you first," he said as she let him into her apartment. "I tried to tell you first."

"Is this what you want?" she asked, voice hollow and unmoving. It frightened him to hear her so devoid of emotion; she felt everything so deeply and this was worse than when she would actually cry.

He nodded slowly, letting the answer settle on his shoulders, feeling the weight of it add to everything he felt for her. "I feel like I'm saying goodbye to you."

"Remember what I told you that first night?" she whispered, sitting in the couch and hugging her knees. "I will not help you cheat on your boyfriend."

"I would never ask you to," Blaine agreed, moving to stand in front of her as she rested her head on her folded legs, looking up at him. "Things are complicated enough and I know I made them that way. I just need to hear you say you're okay with this because I don't think I can do this if you're not."

"Of course I'm okay with it Blaine," Rachel replied, still in that dead, monotone voice. "We're just friends."

"We are so past that Rachel," Blaine exclaimed, falling to his knees in front of her, his palms flat against her warm skin. She shivered a little under his touch and he leaned his forehead into her skin. "We are so much more than that and I'm sorry I let it fall apart, but I feel like we could have been everything."

"I know," she sighed, her voice quivering and he closed his eyes in relief as the emotion flooded back into her voice. "We could have but it's done now. I am glad for you," she said, lifting his head to look at her, a sad smile on her face, "that you have Kurt again, but selfishly, I'm going to miss you."

"I have to do this," he whispered, cradling her face between his hands, brushing the loose hair away from her eyes, "but I don't feel like it's over between us. There's so much we didn't say."

"And there's no point in saying them now," she said, cutting him off. "We can't or we'll never find any kind of closure to all this."

It was his desperation that led him to do it. His desperation to be heard, to be felt, to be understood and he rocked up on his heels to pull her lips to his, pouring everything he could into kissing her. Everything he needed to say that she wouldn't let him, everything he needed to stop feeling, the last of what he ever dreamed they could be. Because he would never get another chance and she was right, there was no point in putting it all to words. As long as he could have this moment to point to and say he tried, he could live with that.

"Blaine," she pulled away, cheeks flushed and rosy, her fingers tracing the dips in his collarbone.

"It's about closure, right?" his whisper deep even to his own ears. "Stay here with me, just tonight. Please. Just one last night."

"Kurt," she said feebly and he shook his head.

"Tomorrow," he pleaded, locking his hand behind her neck, keeping her as close to him as he could while she was still folded into a ball on her couch. He couldn't say anything else, didn't have the strength to do so until she finally relaxed, her arms reaching to rest on his shoulders. Her legs unfolded, one on either side of him and suddenly he was afraid to move lest he scare her off. He felt her move over him, lips brushing his hairline, tender at his temple, moving along his jaw, forcing his head up once again. She held him in place with one finger crooked under his chin.

"Why tomorrow?" was all she said, her gaze demanding as it held his own.

He could have said it then – he wondered if she wanted him to say it then – but the words stuck painfully to the back of his throat. Instead, three very different words came out. "You know why," he choked before her lips came crashing down on his.

Her legs hooked around his waist as he stood up and carried them to her bed, slipping her shirt off before they fell back onto the mattress. Her hands were under his, pushing it further and further up his torso until he had to pull away to take his off. As he did, she unbuckled his belt, kissing his hipbones and slid his jeans past his knees so he could step out of them. Her pants followed suit until they both wore nothing more than skin as he pressed her down into the comforter. Their hands flew everywhere, grasping and digging, desperate to feel everything one last time; every scar, every subtle flaw ,every secret spot. To memorize the way their bodies felt again each other, to feel the heat and the chills and the bolts of lightening up their spines. It would be the last time they could lose themselves in each other and even as he pushed inside her, even as his name fell from her lips in a deep moan, he knew it wouldn't be enough. She would always call to him, always own a part of him that no one else would be able to get to.

They did everything they could to make it last until it was like a slow burn coming down because as soon as they did, it would really be over. No going back, no going forward, just over and all they would have left would be the memory of it. Morning would come and they would move on, their futures already decided. But they could have this at least, this last night where he'd found his answer and at least something had all made sense in the end. He could go on knowing that everything he believed it to be in his heart had been real. She had felt it too and all that was left was to find a way to leave it behind.

* * *

><p><strong>AN2: <strong>Seriously, I know I say this all the time, but thank you for reading even when I take a month to update.

_I write, you read, you review, and I write more. I promise._


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer**: **I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><em><strong>RACHEL<br>**_Rachel wished she could regret what happened their last night together, but she didn't. "Tomorrow" had come and her and Blaine's lives now had a new start, one where they couldn't be the everything they were before, but at least things could settle back into normal. The lines and boundaries were back; even if they were different now. She and Blaine would be friends – strictly friends. There would be no lingering stares. They wouldn't hold hands. They wouldn't even kiss each other on the cheek or be overly affectionate in any way; they both knew they wouldn't be able to handle it if they did. For awhile, at least, it wouldn't be friendly. It would be heartbreaking. But the alternative that as pushing each other to the point that they were out of each others lives, that was even worse.

Rachel wasn't surprised at all when she went home alone for Hanukkah as Kurt decided last minute to stay in the city with Blaine and their renewed romantic relationship. In a way she was relieved that Blaine hadn't back out on his decision. It felt like a real step forward, even if it was a bit reluctant. Still she was glad she wouldn't have be around to see them make another go of it. She had approximately one month to resolve her feelings before she could return to New York and feign happiness for Kurt, though the strangest thing about it all was that she did feel happy for him, because he was happier than he'd been in a long time.

The first time she really realized what a different relationship she'd forced herself into with Blaine was the afternoon of his hearing with NYU. It had gone off without a hitch, his suspension demoted to probation and he was allowed to re-enroll in the classes he'd had to give up last semester. As she congratulated him and Kurt wrapped him up in his arms, she couldn't help the thought that she should have been doing that. They would have gone out to celebrate, either to dinner or to see Marco at their bar, but instead she had to settle for a gracious smile and a brief side hug. It had felt so strange, so unnatural to her that when Kurt did suggest they all go out, she politely declined.

He had texted her later that evening, a short _"wish you were here" _but she never responded. He didn't need her to explain to him why she wasn't. It wasn't that they never spent time together anymore; they did. Sometimes they even managed with just the two of them, though it was always in public, but most of the time she would end up joining him and Kurt. It was eerily similar to high school and she tried not to feel bitter; after all, it was as much her choice as it was Blaine's.

And then there was Jesse. She had feared he would disappear back into his own world after the winter fundraiser had wrapped up, but he proved her wrong by showing up at her school after her first day back with a mug of hot tea. She'd thrown her arms around him and her fears melted away as he held her to his chest. She didn't feel so much like the delegated third wheel, or quite as lonely when he was around. Because no matter how much he liked Blaine or got along with Kurt, he was her friend. She didn't have to share him and it may have been selfish, but she liked having someone who was only hers.

Every now and then, he would ask if she wanted to talk about Blaine, but she found she had less and less to say about it as time went on. Things seemed to be going well with Kurt, and if that's what made Blaine happy, then she wasn't going to stand in the way. Even if she missed him more than she might admit; she had her own life to live. This semester was decidedly less glamorous than her last, though she did get a certain thrill every time a teacher or another student pointed her out in class as the lead of their very successful musical. She felt now more than ever that she was on the right path; it was validating.

"You look extremely pink today," Jesse said as she put on her primrose overcoat for the walk back to her apartment from his theater.

"It is Valentine's," Rachel remarked with a grin as glanced down at her outfit happily.

"Not for a few more days," Jesse reminded her and she hummed in agreement, "but I suppose that wouldn't stop you from dressing for the season."

"I live by the firm belief that I should be ready to attend any and every public event I may be invited to," Rachel explained pleasantly. "I should always be presentable and in acceptable attire. Since many people like to throw seasonally-themed parties, I should dress to the occasion."

"You must have a lot of invitations then since I don't think I'd find more hearts in one place even if I went to the Hallmark store," he quipped as she playfully shoved him away.

"I have a few solicitations to choose from," she muttered, shrugging her shoulders slightly, "but most of them will be predominated by those with significant others and I'm not sure if I want to spend my evening as everyone's third wheel."

"You don't have a date?" Jesse asked and there was something in his voice that intrigued her. He still carried his trademark smirk, his shoulder casually slumped with indifference, but there was definitely something in his eyes that added weight to the otherwise simple question.

"You know very well that I don't, Jesse St. James," she said.

"I know you don't have a boyfriend, which is different than a date," he insisted and she looked at him, slightly confused. "Oh well," he continued, "maybe you can do something with Kurt and Blaine. There's a fifty-fifty chance that Kurt will end up the third wheel by the end of the evening."

"That is not fair and not true," she said fiercely, annoyed that he would tease her about coming between her two good friends, especially when he knew her past. "Kurt and Blaine are happy together. Besides, they're not doing anything for Valentine's Day."

"And why is that?" he asked unapologetically, which only served to irritate her more.

"They're determined to take it slow-."

"They've been dating for about two months, how slow can they take it?" Jesse interrupted but Rachel just continued on as if she hadn't heard him. "-and they decided that celebrating a holiday centered around romance might be a little overwhelming."

"It sounds to me like Blaine is avoiding commitment again," Jesse said under his breath and she just couldn't help the need she had to jump to his defense.

"Blaine has no problem with commitment," she said, her voice taking on a hard edge. Jesse opened his mouth, perhaps to argue but she held up a hand and cut him off instead. "And before you say he never committed to me, I'll remind you that I never asked him to, but he still showed me more loyalty than most of the relationships I've had."

"But you're the one alone on Valentine's Day while he pretends not to be in a relationship," Jesse countered.

"What does it matter to you if I am?" Rachel snapped, her heels clicking rapidly on the concrete as she increased her pace until she managed to place herself ahead of Jesse. "If you think it's that big of a deal, then you do something about it, otherwise you can spend the holiday alone with just your cynicism for company."

"Rachel Berry, are you asking me out?" Jesse asked, sliding in front of her with ease despite her best efforts to storm away from him. He grinned at her expectantly and she supposed it was a little endearing, if a bit challenging. He often brought the fight out in her, but she was tired of having to push and pull her way through, only to end up having to let everything go. So whatever dare lurked behind his sky blue eyes, she wasn't going to take the bait. It was someone else's turn to play the sucker.

"No," she said, shaking her head, not letting herself feel guilty for the way his face fell. "In fact, I'm starting to feel like Kurt and Blaine have the right idea in skipping the holiday all together."

"That's a little drastic," he argued.

"Is it?" Rachel replied nonchalantly as she realized they has wandered onto her block without her noticing and were nearing her apartment building. As they reached the door, she turned on her heel. "I think it's the best idea I've had in a long time, to be honest."

"I think it sounds a bit dense," Jesse sighed, staring her down at her in a way that used to excite her when they were younger. At that exact moment, however, it just made her feel tired and out of place in her own life. It made her question her own decisions and if there was anything she had learned over the past few years, it was that she needed to stand by her own convictions. It didn't matter what they were, as long as they were hers.

"As far as I'm concerned, the matter is settled," Rachel said in a huff as she began searching for her key before stepping in the direction of the meager reception area. Jesse didn't follow, either because it was abundantly clear he was no longer welcome, or by his own accord. "I already told you what you could do about it if you wanted to change my mind."

-:-

The days passed quickly until Valentine's evening came and true to her word, Rachel was alone on the roof of her tiny apartment, accompanied only by her Barbara playlist and her dad's recipe for substitute pad thai. The night air was probably too cold for her to be barefoot, but she couldn't be bothered to climb through her window, just for a pair of shoes. Not when she could hear music drifting through the streets from the open clubs, or a whispered conversation carried out a nearby window. She could see the lights in the far off distance at the heart of the city, bright and neon and blazing.

This was the New York she was in love with; its vitality, its promise that nothing would stay the same or stand still. There was always another day to step into and you could go forward with someone by your side or you could go at it alone, but either way, there was no going back. It propelled her into her future in a way Lima never had. She got stuck in old habits, clinging onto the smallest thing she could while in Ohio, until she lost sight of the things she dreamed of. New York reminded her of those dreams and beckoned her forward. It was easier to move on here.

Still, Jesse's words kept creeping their way back into her mind and she couldn't decide what bothered her more; that he might actually be right as far as his own twisted logic could get him, or that there was clearly an underlying motive that went beyond his usual snark. Most would say it was uncharacteristic of Jesse to keep his feelings hidden, but Rachel knew him deeper than that. When it came to vulnerable emotions – anything from anger to disappointment to love – he was like a vault and it took a lot of coaxing to get him to admit he cared even the smallest bit.

The hardest part was the waiting. She knew no matter how much she poked and prodded, the first step was always made on his terms. Sometimes she liked it, knowing what her lead was and where to go with it but other times, like now, it was just aggravating. The hints were there, had been for months at least, and contrary to Blaine's beliefs, she wasn't blind to them. It's just that Jesse insisted on being so stagnant and she wasn't willing to take a chance on another undefined relationship – if she were to be in any at all. If he wanted something with her, he was going to have to say so. It was weak, but she needed that reassurance. The only consolation she found was that, no matter how frustrating or stubborn he could be, Jesse was usually worth the trouble.

She heard the creaky metal ladder rattle against the side of the building and jumped. It was unusual for anyone in the building to come up to the roof but as she heard her name being called in a distinctly masculine voice, she relaxed. Unfurling from her chair, she stood up and smiled. It was almost as if he were on cue and hitting his mark as Jesse came to stand in front of her.

"So when you said I could do something about you being alone on Valentine's Day," he said, and her grin widen at his lack of preamble, "I thought about whisking you away on some overly orchestrated date manufactured in a bargain bin romantic comedy, but I don't think either of us would have enjoyed that."

"It could have gone either way," Rachel nodded, stifling a laugh, "but you would get points for the dramatic gesture."

"Well, they say it's the thought that counts," he shrugged, humor glinting in his eyes, "in which case, I have a lot of interest built up that I intend to cash in."

His gaze was intense in a way that only Jesse had ever managed to master and she felt proud of herself that she was one of the few who could ever match it. There was always a charge between them and she felt more and more attracted to it, but she still held back. And she could sense him doing the same as he turned away from her slightly, facing the skyline.

"What are you doing up here anyway?" he asked, the sudden change in conversation not lost on Rachel, but she simply went along with it. Folding his hand in her own, she led him to the edge of the building.

"Do you see that string of red lights?" she asked, pointing as far to the right as she could, her arm swooping in wave to imitated the pattern. "That's the new marquee for Chicago. The girl who just replaced Roxie Hart has been acting on Broadway since she was 16 but this is her first leading role. I sit up here, and it all feels so incredibly close. I know that will be me one day."

"It's an inevitability," Jesse agreed.

"I can do this," Rachel sighed happily, leaning her head against his shoulder, "and when I'm up here, I know I can even do it alone. But when I think about that first curtain call on a Broadway stage, I know I'll go back to these moments on the roof and I know I'll want someone who was here with me now to be there with me then."

"Do you see me there?" Jesse whispered, squeezing her hand tight.

"I do," she whispered back. "I'd even say I need you there."

"You don't need anyone," Jesse insisted so matter-of-factly that she might have been insulted if it had come from anyone else. "So I guess it comes down to who you want."

"I already have who I want," she whispered, staring off in the distance. "There's not a single person in my life I would trade for another. The real question, is if any of them feel the same way."

"I do," he echoed her previous words and it seemed a bonding of sorts to her. He held fast to her hand, letting the moment settle and there was something so monumental about standing on the roof of her tiny apartment, looking out over New York with Jesse, their words lingering in the air. She felt completely at home, the presence of the city enveloping them. However she got there, she was meant to be in this moment with Jesse. And maybe, just maybe, she was meant to carry this forward with her.

It could be worth a try.

-:-

_**BLAINE  
><strong>_Leaving Rachel's apartment in December had been one of the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in his life and when she met him at the door, wrapped in her bathrobe and holding a bag with everything he had left at her place over that last few months, he almost stayed. But it was in that moment he realized how weak he truly was and it was his weakness that caused the pain hidden under her smile. She was confused – they both were – and it wasn't fair to either of them to ignore that. She wasn't willing to go back to what they were and he wasn't sure that moving forward was possible after the mess he'd made of things. They had reached an impasse and at least this way, they could stop hurting each other. At least this way, they hadn't ruined _everything._

He had Kurt to focus on now and that was a daunting idea to say the least. It wasn't that he didn't have any feelings at all for his soon-to-be current boyfriend, it was more that he was still sorting through all the ones he did have. It was like being at Dalton all over again, but with more at stake. Kurt had once again made it clear that he wanted to be with him and Blaine, as much as he liked the boy, wasn't sure if his intentions matched Kurt's. Adding in the history they had, it only seemed more complicated, but Kurt was willing to be patient while Blaine tried to muddle through and he deserved a lot of credit for that.

There had only been one major fight between them, taking place the evening after he officially moved out of Jesse's apartment and back into a dorm room at NYU. The stress of the day, he guessed, was what caused them to finally crack and it took everything in him to keep from running after Rachel when the argument started. But he'd meant it when he wanted to give him and Kurt a real chance and that meant battling out their demons of the past. So he listened to Kurt yell about how he had punished him, had pushed him away, and was still being distant. And Blaine screamed in retaliation, finally telling Kurt exactly how he felt about being left behind in Lima, how it hurt to think Kurt couldn't even wait a year for him.

It went around in circles for hours and Blaine was sure their attempt at rekindling their old relationship was going to end before it had really started when Kurt finally broke down. "I'm sorry!" he half-screamed, half-choked, sitting down on the floor as if his legs had given out. "I screwed up. For the first time in my life, I felt accepted and wanted and it wasn't just by one person or my dad. It was everywhere. It was this city and the people. I got confused, thought I wanted someone new. But I don't, okay? I just want you and I've known this for a long time. I know I took you for granted and I know you have every right to be angry but please just believe that I am so sorry Blaine."

All these things Blaine knew, or at least guessed at, but hearing the words finally come from Kurt seemed to make all the difference. "I do believe you," Blaine said as he sat on the floor next to him, crossing his legs and tucking his hands under his knees. "At least I do now, but back then all I felt was that I was being abandoned and when you came back, when I came here, I just couldn't let that happen again. It was the loneliest I think I've ever felt and if you could do it to me once, you could do it again."

"I won't," Kurt insisted, his voice full of promises.

"I believe you won't mean to," was his only response.

"This is what I'm talking about," Kurt groaned in frustration. "How are we supposed to move forward when you don't trust me? It's like you want us to fail and I can't do anything about it because you don't let me."

"I told you before we got into this-."

"I know you did, but I can't carry a relationship by myself." Guilt began to prickle at Blaine's skin as he took in Kurt's defeated voice and the sadness in his eyes. "It's too hard and if this is the way it's going to be, then we should back out now before you end up hating me more than you already do."

"I don't hate you Kurt," Blaine insisted, a little shocked to hear that Kurt thought it was even a possibility, but he had to admit he'd given him every reason to think so. Because as much as Blaine wanted to pin all the blame on Kurt for the way things had been over the last year, he also knew it was just as much his own fault. He had made sure to hold back around Kurt; he had been cold, intentionally and accidentally all while Kurt tried so hard to make things better between them. "And now I'm the one who needs to apologize," Blaine realized as he turned to Kurt, "because I put all this pressure on you and maybe it was my way of trying to give myself a loophole. That was wrong of me."

"If you want out, just say so," Kurt whispered. "I can't make you stay."

"I don't want out," Blaine shook his head. "I just... I'm sorry for making you feel like it was all up to you. I'm going to start trying now. It's going to go both ways, okay?"

"If you're just saying that-."

"I'm not," Blaine said, interrupting him this time as he reached over to Kurt's worrying hands and held one in his own. Kurt glanced over at him with a hesitant smile, which he returned in kind.

-:-

Blaine wished he could say that everything fell into place after that, but things between them still weren't as effortless as they had been the first time around. To Blaine, it still felt like he was going through the motions and he knew Kurt could feel it as well, but still they tried. They went on dates, actual real dates with just the two of them. They texted through classes, and Kurt would still go out of his way to visit Blaine at the new Starbucks he had transferred to. They talked on the phone on the nights they couldn't see each other and somewhere along the lines, it stopped being an effort and started to feel more natural.

Still, when the subject of Valentine's Day was breached, he couldn't fight back the hesitance that coiled in his stomach. He couldn't properly explain it to himself, but as much as he believed he and Kurt were starting down the right path, the whole Valentine's Day experience seemed incredibly heavy to him. He used to enjoy the holiday, but it didn't feel right to him this year. He saw all the couples floating around, head in the clouds as they made plans and couldn't see himself or Kurt in any of them. Not even the new couples, the ones just starting out after one of the worked up the courage to ask the other out for the day. Honestly, they were the worst of all; if they could be happy on Valentine's then what did that say about him?

He tried to be as honest as possible, and Kurt didn't seem terribly disappointed, claiming he had a lot of work he needed to catch up on for the second half of his advanced theater class. Blaine was grateful for the excuse, citing his own homework even though he was merely repeating the classes he'd lost credit for his last semester. So while they agreed to spend the evening together, it would be spent studying over Chinese food and text books. No hearts, no candy, no flowers. No pressure.

But even as he sat cross-legged on his bed on Valentine's day, surrounded by notebooks and highlighters, he wondered if maybe they should have at least done _something. _He knew in his heart it had been the right decision to more or less skip the holiday – to skip the reservations and the dates and the hearts and the declarations of love that only seemed to last the course of one evening – but it felt so strange and somehow selfish not to celebrate that he did have someone to hold. It was almost like he was taking the whole thing for granted and that scared him; after all, that had been Kurt's admittedly biggest mistake and he didn't want to make the same one.

"Don't get mad," Kurt said by way of introduction as he walked though Blaine's open doorway, carrying several bags. Blaine looked at him warily, but didn't say anything while he jumped up onto his bed, shoving a plastic bag tied tightly at the top into his lap. "I know we said we weren't going to get each other anything, but I saw this and it reminded me of you."

"Kurt-," he started carefully, not even sure of what he was going to say but was thankfully saved when Kurt began to babble in distress. He did look a little troubled, a little ashamed that he'd broken his promise, which told Blaine that at least he had tried to stay within their agreement instead of planning this behind his back. His apprehension began to fade as his listened to Kurt try to explain how he was only going to pick up their food, but it was on the counter and it reminded him of Blaine and he just couldn't say no. It wasn't really a present, anyway, he stressed, especially not a Valentine's Day present. "I didn't even wrap it," Kurt continued. "It's still in the tacky plastic bag."

Indeed it was, and Blaine smiled to himself, knowing how hard that must have been for Kurt to present something to him with so little ceremony. His gifts were usually impeccably wrapped in color-coordinated papers and bows, sometimes even followed a theme. For Kurt to just tie the bag shut and drop it in Blaine's lap, that was a sure sign of spontaneity on his part. If he'd picked it up at their take-out place, it couldn't possibly be expensive. Blaine couldn't even tell what it was through the plastic and it seemed silly to argue over something that clearly came with the best intentions.

He began twisting the knot loose as Kurt watched him, wringing his hands nervously until the tie gave way and the bag fell open. Held down on the cardboard base with wire, were two plush puppy dogs with long floppy ears facing and half a heart drawn on the side of their snouts except for when their noses touched and the two halves were made into a complete heart. Scrawled hastily across the bright red base in Kurt's handwriting were the words "puppy love".

"Do you remember this?" Kurt asked quietly, leaning his shoulder against Blaine's.

"Oh God, this was like, four years ago," Blaine laughed, beaming from ear to ear as he thought back to that long-forgotten day in his sophomore year in high school. "That was kind of our first Valentine's if you think about it."

"It's hard to believe we've known each other that long," Kurt chuckled, picking off the tag from one of the toy dog's ears. "Sometimes it feels like we're just getting started."

"You think so?" Blaine wondered aloud. For him, The Lima Bean felt like a lifetime ago, like a distant era. When love meant knowing the other's coffee order, when you merely had to say "I like you", and things were as simple as holding hands. He'd been a different person then; Kurt had been a different person. They'd had different hopes and dreams, yet there was so much to look forward to. And now they'd grown up and being in a relationship was the hardest thing in the world, even when you were starting to love the other person every bit as much as they loved you.

"Not all the time, obviously," Kurt sighed wistfully, gazing off in the distance at something only he could see. Blaine wondered what he was thinking, what they looked like through his eyes. "We've been through a lot, but yeah," he smiled as he used one finger to push the noses of the dogs together in a playful caricature of a kiss, causing Blaine to laugh. "You know, sometimes it's nice to remember how young we are. We can be stupid and optimistic and buy cheap gas station toys."

"Thank you for this Kurt," Blaine said, smiling as wide as his face would let him, but it still didn't feel like it was enough to express how happy he really felt at that moment. Because he really was, this was the Kurt he had been in love with, the one who let his walls down and allowed himself to be free and content. This was the one Blaine was seeing more and more of and it wasn't hard to imagine falling for him again. He could definitely be in love with this boy, if he let himself. And in moments like this, it was okay to do that, despite whatever confusing feelings he might have left over; it was okay to be in love again.

Kurt grinned happily and Blaine added, "it's adorable," as he leaned over and kissed his boyfriend. As he did so, that moment he'd been looking for, the one where everything came together and clicked, finally fell upon him. He still had things to work on, things to leave in the past, but maybe he could do that. At the very least, it could be worth a try.

-:-

_**RACHEL  
><strong>_Jesse had started being distant, and she just couldn't understand why. If this had happened at any point before their evening on the roof, she could have accepted it but it was over two weeks later and he barely seemed to exist at all. When he bothered to respond to her text messages, it was always with one word and the most frequent of all was "busy". But she couldn't seem to find him. He wasn't at his apartment when she went by, and was nowhere to be found near his theater. Either she had the worst timing in the world or Jesse was a master of avoidance and since this was the same guy who lived and worked only a few blocks from the school she attended for a year, she strongly suspected it was the second occurrence.

"Don't ask me what Jesse does with his spare time," Blaine had said to her as he sat with her during his break at work, sipping her tea absently.

"You lived with him!" she reminded him, grabbing her drink away from him as he laughed. "You have to know something."

"He was barely there," Blaine shrugged, "and when he did come home, he went straight to his room with whatever date he had that week and since I usually ended up at your place on those nights, I wouldn't see him 'till maybe days later."

"You were terrible roommates," Rachel grumbled.

"I could have spent more time there if you had ever let me leave your place."

"Blaine!" Rachel laughed, feeling her face turn red. "I'm trying to be serious here. I need to talk to Jesse and I can't if he's avoiding me."

"Why would he be avoiding you?" Blaine questioned, his brow creased with concern. "What's so important anyway?"

"It's kind of..." Rachel trailed off as her thoughts swirled together. She wasn't sure what she could tell him, what would be the proper response and it hurt her inside to know that she had to second-guess herself with Blaine now. As friendly as they had remained and as much as they could joke about their past dalliances, there were instances such as this that still arose between them when the line blurred between what could be said as friends and what could hurt as exes. "I'm not sure exactly and that's why I need to talk to him."

"Did he say something to you?" Blaine pressed as he slid down in his chair and crossed one leg over his knee.

"About what?" she asked, trying to hide her discomfort by taking a larger than necessary drink of her tea.

"About you."

Rachel choked, the tea unceremoniously dripping from the corners of her lips as she sputtered. Blaine's mouth fell into a grim line and he passed her a napkin, waiting for her to collect herself. "Not in so many words," she finally said. "How did you know?"

"Call it a hunch," his voice was flat as he spoke, even though she could see the effort he was making to smile at her as if it actually amused him.

"Don't be mad," Rachel pleaded. "It doesn't mean anything. I mean, it doesn't yet. I just mean it wasn't like this when you and I were-."

"Relax Rachel, I know," Blaine jumped in, cutting off her fumbling speech and this time, his smile was a little more genuine. "We talked about it once, Jesse and I, or it was more like I talked at him. It's not a secret that he has feelings for you; even you know it."

"Is that such a bad thing though?" Rachel wondered to herself more than to him, though she voiced it aloud. "I know no one ever approved of Jesse, but I've always enjoyed his company and you have Kurt now."

"Just because I 'have Kurt now' is not a reason to jump into anything with Jesse," he grumbled much too loudly for her to have mistakenly overheard it. She shot him a glare across the table, which he returned.

"I'm not jumping into anything with Jesse," she replied heatedly. "And even if I were, it's really not your business at all, is it?"

"I'm just looking out for you," Blaine asserted, "and him. I don't want to see anyone else get hurt, and especially not you. Not again."

"It's not like you did a great job of that the first time around," Rachel snipped.

"Well someone has to learn from the experience," he shot back. She shook her head, scoffing as she did so, even as he continued on. "Kurt and I, we're getting there and yeah, we're better today than we were a few weeks ago but it's a lot of work. This can't be something you do just because you're lonely. You have to mean it."

"I'm not a child anymore Blaine," she said evenly, trying to keep her anger out of her voice. "I don't _need _a boyfriend and it's a mortifying that you even think that of me. I know how to be alone, believe it or not. I did it for sixteen years before I got together with Finn, before you even knew me, and I can do it again. But maybe I don't want to. Maybe that's the difference, did you ever think of that?"

"That's not what I meant!" he argued. "I just... I'm sorry okay? You're right. It's not any of my business."

The chair scraped against the linoleum floor as he stood up, tossing his cleaning towel over his shoulder with a resounding snap against his back. He ran a hand through his hair, agitating the gel and shaking a few of the trapped curls free. She should have found joy in that, as she had been disappointed when he started styling his hair shortly after January, but she was too upset to really process it. "Where are you going?" she demanded.

"Back to work," was his short answer. "If I hear from Jesse, I'll tell him to call you."

-:-

She didn't hear from either of them until a few days later, strangely only an hour apart; Blaine first with a lengthy apology left on her voice mail, which she quickly returned to say she had already forgiven him. Jesse's text came after and it was the longest one she'd received from him in weeks.

_My theater. After curtain call. Name's on the list. - Jesse_

She could barely focus on the play his company was putting on. Instead she sat nervously in the back, twisting the sleeve of her jacket in her hand until the house lights came on and the crowd started to make their way outside. She waited until the majority of the people were in the lobby and wove through the few stragglers towards the steps she knew were hidden behind the thick black curtain hanging off the sides of the stage.

Her heels tapped against the floor as she searched for Jesse through the remaining cast members still milling about. Most of them remembered her from _Cabaret _and said hello, but disappeared before she could ask after Jesse. She was growing more and more frustrated and even entertained the idea of storming out before he could find her, but she knew she would regret it by the time she got home. And he might not even try to speak to her again if she did. No, this could likely be her only chance. So she would wait.

She felt absolutely ridiculous as fifteen minutes passed with no sign of him. She checked her phone, but there were no new messages and every time she typed one out to send to him, she ended up deleting it and starting all over. Eventually, most of the people had ventured far back stage or gone home and she was till sitting on the edge of the stage, waiting for a man she was almost certain was toying with her at this point.

"There you are," she heard Jesse's voice echo through the rafters. She looked over her shoulder to see him waking towards her. He offered her a hand and helped her off the floor while saying, "I was looking for you outside."

A small smile played at her lips, accompanied by a light blush. She felt silly for doubting him. "I guess I just assumed you would want to meet here."

"It's not a big deal. I haven't been very communicative lately," he said with a shrug of his shoulders as he casually led her to the center of the stage. "Blaine said you wanted to talk to me."

"My two hundred messages didn't tell you that?" she asked, her eyebrow arched in disbelief.

"I got the general idea," Jesse teased, "but it really hit home with Blaine's angry labradoodle voice mails."

"He called you?" Rachel repeated slowly, unsure of how to feel about that, but she shook it off to worry about later.

"Consistently," Jesse nodded. "I stopped listening to them after I heard actual yipping in the background."

Rachel laughed quietly at his words, a silence settling upon them for a moment before she realized it was up to her to push him onwards. "What made you finally decide to give in?"

"It's actually extremely exhausting trying to avoid you," he said with a grin.

"So you were ignoring me then," she sighed, gazing down at her feet. "Did I do something wrong? I thought we – or that maybe you – I don't know what I thought, but we were there together on the roof and I felt like something happened. Did it not?"

"It did," he admitted, his voice sober.

"Then what changed?" she demanded as gently as possible.

"I wanted to be the good guy this time," Jesse said, the tips of his fingers toying with the hem of his long sleeves, the only sign that he wasn't as confident as he was trying to portray. "To let you have all your feelings and whatever else you needed before I told you that I wanted you but that involves waiting and patience and I canceled my subscription to that months ago."

"But why now?" Rachel inquired, crossing her arms over her chest as Jesse ran a hand through the length of her hair. "I thought I was fairly obvious on Valentine's night, but you didn't say anything then. I have to confess, I'm a little confused here Jesse."

"Then let me be clear. I want you Rachel. I'm not going to make the same mistakes he made by pretending to be casual," she winced slightly at that as Jesse whispered. His fingers crooked under her chin as he brought her forward until his lips hovered over her. "This is real and it's you and me, all or nothing."

The distance closed between them and she had been expecting his kiss to match his words – direct and purposeful, assurance laced with the hint of desperation – but it was the exact opposite. It was soft, sweet even, an old kiss for old lovers, but it made her heart spin in the direction of her toes and her skin felt as if they were filled with electric sparks. Even as her mouth fell into his own, it held a kind of rediscovered innocence, like the last weeks of winter that promised spring.

"Okay," she breathed, against his cheek as she looped her arms around his neck. His hands went immediately around her waist, the fabric of her dress crinkling under his touch as he pulled her into his chest. It was an embrace as familiar as it was new and an elated giggle escaped her as he spun her around on the spot.

"But you can't just run away the first time I do something you don't like," Rachel insisted as he put her down.

"And you can't expect me to agree with everything you do," Jesse said with a nod. "We're probably going to fight and we probably won't speak to each other for days but this time, the difference will that we're in it for us. I won't ask you to be someone you're not, as long as you don't expect anything else from me."

"Agreed," Rachel grinned as she once more leaned into his chest, her arms loosely around his waist as one of his own was slung around her shoulders. "Oh and one more thing," she said, her voice light and teasing as he looked down at her questioningly. "You are never allowed to make me breakfast."

* * *

><p><strong>AN2: <strong>This chapter is significantly shorter than the others, and I'm sorry about that, but I really struggled with this one and I'm still not 100% happy with it, but everything I tried to change made it worse, so I had to settle. It happens sometimes. Thanks again to Ashley (forever) for essentially holding my hand through this. I don't think you understand how important she is to writing this.

_I write, you read, you review, and I write more. I promise._


	7. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: I do not own _Glee._

* * *

><p><em>=:= one and a half years later =:=<em>

_**BLAINE**_  
>Time had never seemed to pass faster. Before he knew it, Blaine had successfully finished his sophomore year in college, and with a few crash courses and summer classes, he had even manage to get himself completely caught up from his freshman year setback. It had been stressful – a lot of late nights and an unhealthy amount of coffee – but he was back on track and it felt good. For once in his life, things seemed to be going according to plan, even if the plan seemed to have changed along the way.<p>

He considered taking a few courses over the summer like Kurt would be, but it didn't taking much convincing on Rachel's part to persuade him to take a break after all the hard work he'd put into his studies. He liked the idea of finally getting to enjoy summer in New York, having effectively skipped it the year last. Before finals weeks, he had withdrawn from the music study he had signed up for, reveling in the sense of ease that washed over him. This was going to be a good summer, he decided, a much needed vacation.

The only drawback was that he because he wouldn't be an active student during the next semester, he was required by the university to leave the dorm. He couldn't see himself living with Jesse again. Blaine had carved out a little niche for himself around NYU, complete with his own friends and a steady job, and even though everything in New York could be considered relatively close, he couldn't imagine leaving that all behind.

Then there was the fact that Jesse and Rachel were still together, like a proper couple, even if Blaine had lost track of the times they had technically broken-up, only to be wrapped up in each other on the steps to Broadway a few days later. He loved them both, and was happy for them, but sometimes it was extremely overwhelming to be around them. Their personalities alone were more than most people could handle, and together they were practically unstoppable and Blaine had been in the middle of enough of their arguments as it was; if he lived with Jesse, he wouldn't be able to escape them at all.

Living with Rachel, to put it simply, wasn't an option. No matter how platonic he and Rachel were nowadays, Blaine knew Jesse wouldn't allow it. Especially since it had only been half a year since Rachel had refused his offer to live together, Blaine couldn't imagine a world in which Jesse would be happy with his girlfriend living with another guy even if they could conveniently forget about their past involvements. And even if he were, the idea of living with Rachel was somehow more daunting to him than being homeless on the streets, for reasons he knew were better to keep to himself. She still snuck up on him occasionally, leveling him completely out of the blue and though he was happily in love with Kurt once more, it was sometimes still hard to ignore the effect Rachel could have on him.

As it turned out, Kurt had applied for an apartment closer to the magnet school where he would be taking elective fashion courses over the summer, conveniently only ten minutes away from the dorm Blaine was being kicked out of. It was kismet, he'd said when he asked Blaine to move in with him for the summer and Blaine hadn't even hesitated to say yes. It was practical, it didn't take him too far from where he wanted to stay, and Kurt was his boyfriend. It only seemed natural and he could only smile as Kurt hurriedly sketched out a renewed color and design pallet to suit the both of them.

It had taken some getting used to, living with Kurt, and the cramped apartment didn't leave much room for personal space, but they made it work. The first few weeks were spent trying to get used to being around each other constantly and all the idiosyncrasies that came with it. Blaine tended to sleep later than Kurt, which drove the other boy up the wall, but Kurt's nightly routine was almost as time-consuming as Rachel's and sometime Blaine just wanted to shower and sleep. But there were good things about it too, the fact that Kurt always had breakfast – or lunch – ready for whenever Blaine did get up, or that sometimes Kurt would watch the late-night movie with him instead of spending it in the bathroom. Even if they did trip over each other in some way every day or argue about whose turn it was to wash the dishes, it felt very natural.

It wasn't like they spend every minute together either. Kurt's classes took up a lot of his time and his homework took up even more. Blaine still had his job to go to and somehow, about two weeks into the summer break, a friend had roped him into recording vocals for a few demo songs he was engineering for a class project. He'd been happy to do it, but that somehow lead to singing with his band on Saturday nights and while he'd been hesitant at first, he had to admit he still got a certain thrill when it came to performing. It was therapeutic in way that he missed, even if he didn't have the passion for it that Kurt and Rachel did.

And Rachel, if it were possible, was even more passionate than ever as it came to the brink of her senior and final year at NYADA. Ever since her role in _Cabaret, _she'd been in almost every school production in some way and had even been part of an internship of sorts in an off-Broadway theater where she had been allowed to participate in a workshop, even if she wasn't involved in any actual productions. Every step she seemed to take took her closer to the ultimate dream and she was determined not to lose any momentum over the summer, going to any open audition she could and dragging Blaine along the way.

"I'm not going to have a safety net anymore," Rachel explained as they sat on the grass in Central Park, munching on the french fries Blaine insisted she eat if she wanted to run around the city until sundown. "I need to at least be vaguely recognizable outside the little bubble that is NYADA."

"Rach, you don't have anything to worry about," Blaine chuckled, squeezing her knee in a gesture of comfort. "You work harder than anyone I know and you're not exactly without connections. Rosenbaum actually likes you now and even if he's not casting shows anymore, he knows people. And then there's Jesse, your boyfriend."

"First of all, I'd like to think I can get in on my own merits," she told him, shoving his shoulder playfully as she did, "and secondly, what does Jesse have to do with it?"

"He does work for real theaters," he reminded her.

"He does, but he doesn't work in casting," Rachel shrugged. "If I were just a dancer, then maybe he could help, but I want to do all of it. Besides, he's so busy with trying to keep his own company together, I'd hate to ask him to do my work for me."

"It's still like having a foot in the door," Blaine responded, "or a toe at least."

"He has enough going on without having to worry about me," she insisted.

"And again, he's your boyfriend," Blaine repeated, unable to keep the edge of irritation from his voice at the word. "He's supposed to worry about you. It's his job."

"I'm sure he does," Rachel said with a roll of her eyes, "but half of his company has run off because the building is under inspection, which means his job is on the line and it's just a very stressful time for him right now. I'm doing all I can to be there for him, but there's not much I can actually do. Maybe he could help me, I don't know, but since I'm still in school, I'd rather see him use his efforts to find his own job and not mine."

"He'll be fine," Blaine said, picking off blades of grass one by one. "If there's one thing Jesse's good at, it's taking advantage of an open opportunity."

"What do you mean by that?" Rachel asked, looking at him with wide eyes and she looked so innocent when she did that, he couldn't help but smile. She was happy with Jesse, he knew that and if he had issues from time to time with it, well that was Blaine's problem, not hers. So he did what he always did, did more and more often, and pushed it back.

"Nothing really," he laughed with a shake of his head. Her brow arched gracefully and he could sense that she expected more of an answer. Somethings were better left alone, or at least left out of his hands, and he didn't want to fight with her, so he instead rapidly changed the subject, hoping she would go along. "Did I tell you I talked to Michelle the other day?"

"Oh yeah?" Rachel said with interest, pulling closer to Blaine with a smile. "What did she have to say?"

"The better question is what didn't she have to say," he grinned as she laughed. "She has a new girlfriend, new major, new tattoo. She's always doing something, you know. I miss her sometimes."

"Maybe you could go visit her," Rachel suggested.

"I was actually thinking of inviting her to visit me here in New York," Blaine countered. "I think she'd like it and I know she would kill to get out of Ohio."

"I think that's a great idea!" Rachel exclaimed with excitement. "I've always wanted to meet her. It's weird that I haven't actually; she's practically your best friend."

"You're my best friend," Blaine corrected her, knocking his shoulder into hers as she blushed. "I haven't asked her yet or anything and I haven't even talked to Kurt about it. I don't know if he'd be too crazy about the idea, especially since she would have to stay with us."

"It might be a little weird for him," she said with a thoughtful nod, "but you and Michelle are just friends and once he sees that, it should work out. You never know, he might even have fun with it."

"Fun might be stretching it," he said with a laugh. "I'll talk to him about it."

"If he's really not comfortable with it, Michelle is always welcome to stay with me," Rachel offered in alternative, resting her chin on Blaine's shoulder.

"You and Michelle together, now that's just begging for trouble," he teased, leaning his forehead against hers. She shoved him away with a roll of her eyes. His arms caught around her waist and she fell against his chest; they both hit the ground with a soft thud and he smiled to himself as she wrapped herself around him. Their legs jumbled loosely together, her arms around his shoulders which she used as a pillow, quietly humming a harmony to match his own. They lay in the park for another hour, quiet and content under the summer sun. It occurred to him that this was time Rachel could have spent chasing her star around Broadway, but she didn't make any move to leave, even when he suggested that maybe they should. She just snuggled in closer, tighter and some small part of him let himself believe this was the summer he first moved to New York, when things were this easy. No worries, no impending and uncertain futures or overly-complicated social circles. It was just him and Rachel, passing the time on a blanket in Central Park simply because they could. But then her cell phone rang, and his chimed with a text message and their real lives beckoned them home.

-:-

It hadn't taken too much convincing on Kurt's part once Blaine sprung the idea of Michelle's visit on him. His only real concern, at least the only one he voiced, was that they didn't have a spare bedroom for anyone to stay in and that he felt bad asking a guest to sleep on the couch for two weeks. Getting Michelle to agree had actually been the harder part, her concerns were almost exactly as Blaine had predicted, mostly centered around Kurt and her indirect past with him. "Fuck you, you charming asshole," she laughed when she finally gave in after an hour and half on the phone as he cheered in victory, yelling at Kurt that he would have to buy those extra pillows after all.

Both Rachel and Kurt had offered to go to the airport with him to pick her up, but Blaine ended up going on his own. It had been so long since they had seen each other and selfishly, he wanted a few minutes alone with his friend before he had to pass her off to introductions and new people. It was just as well, as they ended up making quite a scene with just the two of them alone. Michelle had spotted him first and she barreled through the exiting crowd to jump on his back. He just barely caught her, and if it hadn't been for her arms wrapped snug against his chest and her legs around his waist, he might have fallen and taken her with him. Instead he could only laugh as she pointed towards baggage claim and demanded to be carried there, never mind the fact that they were both twenty-something year olds acting like toddlers.

"What are we doing tonight?" she asked eagerly after they left Port Authority and took the stairs underground to the subway, toying with the metro card Blaine had purchased for her.

"First, we're going to my place to put your suitcase away," Blaine explained. "You really don't want to lug this thing around Times Square."

"Dude, I am in New York," she argued. "I would carry bricks around Times Square if it kept me there longer."

"I'm pretty sure that doesn't work," he laughed. "You're here for two weeks, there's plenty of time for you to ransack the place, but trust me, you need to start empty-handed."

"Fine, I'll go along with you city boy, but it's my first night here and I don't want to spend it riding around in tunnels or at your place watching you play house," she grinned as she spoke and he was struck with oddest sense of being homesick for her. Every day since she'd agreed to come visit him, and now that she was actually here, he realized exactly how much he missed her and it was the damnedest thing. "We're going out tonight, right?"

"I think Kurt wanted to make us a quiet dinner and get to know you," he said with a shrug. Hearing her groan, he started to chuckle. "I'm kidding. I'm singing with a few friends tonight at a club, so assuming you don't mind listening me-"

"Show off?"

"_Sing_," he spoke over her, a smile on his lips, "then we usually go out for dinner before heading over there."

"And by 'we', you mean who exactly?" she asked him.

"Kurt, Jesse and Rachel."

"You brought me a buffer, I'm so proud," she sighed happily, punching him lightly on the arm. "And the Rachel, huh? It's about time you brought this girl around for my approval."

"Yes, because your approval means so much to me," he replied with a mocking grin.

"Obviously it should," she insisted with a brusque nod of her head. "Baring the Kurt situation of course."

"Come on Michelle," he said with exasperation. "Kurt's looking forward to properly meeting you and you don't really know him."

"I'm sorry if my first impression of him was already made by watching you tear yourself apart over him," she said in the most casual way, he couldn't even be mad at her. With Michelle, it wasn't her being spiteful or holding a grudge, though he supposed she probably still did in her own way. It was just the way she felt and she never held that back from anyone. It was simultaneously the thing he liked best and worst about her but when they'd first met, it was everything he wanted to be in a way.

"He's changed a lot," Blaine said in defense, keeping his tone as casual as hers. "We both have and we must be doing something right since I've been with him for over a year and a half. He's important to me and you may not like him, but please try and have an open mind towards him these next few weeks. It would mean a lot to me."

"Sometimes I wonder why I let you open that adorable mouth," she said, accompanied by an over-exaggerated sigh. "You can talk me into anything, you know that?"

He laughed, knowing that was a "yes" from Michelle if he ever heard one and stood as the train pulled up. "I'm aware," he smirked, taking her by the hand before she could demand another ride on his back. They bantered back and forth the whole ride back to his apartment and she was perfectly amicable when Kurt came home from his last class, making room on the couch next to Blaine so that he could sit down. Blaine felt a flash of nervousness, unsure of what to expect between the two of them past polite introductions. Kurt stayed mostly quiet, a curious look on his face as if he were studying them, but eventually the conversation rounded out between the three of them, especially after Michelle mentioned her new major in fashion merchandising, which Kurt took a keen interest to.

Once they got started talking about personalizing fabric types, they paid him no attention, completely involved in each other. The irony wasn't lost on Blaine and based on the semi-astonished glances Michelle kept sending his way, she had noticed it as well. They weren't about to skip down 5th Avenue hand in hand while they went shopping – though it probably wasn't too far off – but accepting their common ground was a start. Blaine found himself lost and was greatly relieved when the knock on the door gave him an excuse to slide out from between them.

The smile he'd had on his face ever since he had picked up Michelle slipped slightly when he opened the door to Jesse and Rachel. They were standing apart from each other, not even holding hands. He didn't need Jesse's scowl to know they were fighting again; he could see it the tension that traced the corners of her lips, remaining even as she threw on her most practiced grin and reached out to hug Blaine. He returned the embrace, partly out of habit, but mostly to offer her the little comfort she so clearly needed. Jesse's eyes narrowed at the gesture and he didn't seem to be glaring as much at Rachel as he was at Blaine, for reasons Blaine couldn't even begin to guess but it didn't stop him from staring stonily in return over Rachel's shoulder. No matter how well they got along normally, when it came down to choosing between Jesse and Rachel, well Blaine's choice was usually the obvious one.

Rachel linked her arm with Blaine's, which only seemed to annoy Jesse further, and led them all back into the living room. Michelle was laughing at something Kurt had said, both oblivious to the enmity between the two newcomers, greeting them happily. Underneath the worry he had for Rachel, Blaine was surprised to feel that old flutter of nervousness return as Michelle and Rachel introduced themselves. It seemed pleasant enough but he could tell that Rachel's distraction was holding Michelle back and it only got more awkward as Jesse made his own introduction as "a mutual friend", his smile brazen and flirty, one Michelle eagerly returned.

Rachel seemed to notice this too and Blaine followed as she slipped away to the kitchen and found her filling one of his plastic cups with water from the tap. "We have tea in the fridge," he offered but she just shook her head. "What's going on Rachel?"

"Nothing important," she said dismissively but one glance from Blaine seemed to crack her. She heaved a deep sigh. "Jesse didn't want to come tonight. He's been working all week and just wanted to stay home, but I told him it was important to you that we be here to meet Michelle. We got into a huge fight about it and that led to a lot of other things."

"Like what?"

"Just... other things," she said slowly and he could tell she wasn't going to elaborate on what those other things might be. "It's nothing new, honestly and at least Jesse appears to be enjoying himself now that he's here."

Blaine bit back the reply that rested on the tip of his tongue, that Jesse was having his good time at Rachel's expense, but nothing put Rachel on the defensive more, even when she was upset. Instead he just rubbed comforting circles into her back while she silently drank her water. Kurt joined them and without her even saying a word, he knew to sweep her into a tight hug, whispering quietly that whatever was going on would work out the way she wanted it to. She beamed in his arms and Blaine couldn't fight the warmth that spread through his chest as he watched the two most important people in his life. They giggled to themselves over some private joke, tugging him into their embrace.

Rachel's mood was significantly better by the time they left for the club and when Blaine had to disappear to unload the band's equipment, everyone seemed to be getting along as best he could hope for considering their seemed to be an ex-something to someone sitting at every corner. He couldn't really keep tabs on them between the lights and the crowd while he was on stage, but every now and then when he did get to wander over to their spot, the seating arrangement changed with every turn.

"What's the story with Jesse?" Michelle asked during his first break between sets.

"No," Blaine said sternly, fixing her with a solid gaze as she gasped an scandalized _what? _to which he shook his head in disbelief. "Don't even think about it Michelle."

"And what makes you think you know what I'm thinking about?" she asked needlessly.

"Jesse's off limits," he insisted.

"That's up to Jesse."

"Please, just don't," Blaine repeated with an earnest sigh. "Jesse and Rachel, they fight and they make up. This is what they do. But you get to leave in two weeks and I'll have to pick up the pieces around here when you do."

"I just think he's hot," she laughed, slinging her arm around his shoulder, "and as for the thing with Rachel, well I think you'd have a hard time pushing her away if she came to you for comfort."

"She's my best friend."

"Jesse's your friend too," Michelle said as if she thought she had to remind him. "But you'd pick her."

Blaine didn't have time to argue with her as his friends called him back on stage for their second set. But the thought plagued him; not because he was sure she was wrong, but because he knew she was absolutely right. He considered Jesse a good friend and in the beginning, when he and Rachel would fight, he would take Blaine out for a beer and talk to him about it. But Rachel would more often than not call for his advice as well and as hard as Blaine tried to stay impartial, he couldn't when it came to her. He wasn't afraid to call her out if he felt she was at fault, though he never did it as often as he did for Jesse. It made him feel guilty, that he couldn't be there for Jesse the way he could for Rachel, not when listening to her cry built up a little more resentment towards him whenever it happened.

He had meant to pick up where he and Michelle left off during his last break, but Rachel had grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him out to the dance floor, complaining that no one would dance with her and this would be her only shot. Some song he'd never played from the jukebox as she twirled around him, looking as if she were having the time of her life. The yellow trim of her dress clung to her legs the way she clung to his arms and all thoughts of Michelle and Jesse and even Kurt left his head as he danced with Rachel. They were carefree and wild, if only for a few minutes, and it was like a shot of adrenaline to his heart when he realized she was smiling again, her real smile. It lit up the room.

The rest of the night passed quickly and it was past 2 AM before they even made it out of the club and started their walks home. They paused at an open diner that sold pizza by the slice where they parted from Rachel and Jesse, who seemed to have made up enough to hold hands as they headed for a bus stop. Michelle and Kurt were animatedly reenacting something Blaine didn't remember doing on stage, laughing over the exaggerated faces the other made and coddling him when he pretended to pout.

Kurt started getting ready for bed as soon as they got to the apartment – Blaine could fault him, he had classes starting early morning – but Blaine stayed with Michelle in the living room under the pretense of helping her get settled on the couch.

"Was your first night in New York up to par?" he asked with a smile as she flopped down on the sheets they had tucked under the couch cushions.

"I'm exhausted," she complained, tugging him down to sit and she nestled her head in his lap. "You were really good up there, you know, on stage and your friends are all really nice. I can see why you ran away from me to live here."

He rolled her eyes at her running away joke, which earned him a half-hearted punch to his shoulder. "Did you like everyone?" he asked a little self-consciously. "Jesse and Rachel, I mean. I already know how you feel about Kurt."

"I like Kurt," she whispered, eyes downcast.

"Really?" Blaine said without thinking.

"No one is more surprised than I am," she laughed, kicking her shoes off her feet. "We have more in common than I thought we would and he really loves you. Like, he _really _loves you."

"I really love him," he smiled, that warm feeling back in his chest over her admission.

"And Rachel?" she asked, so quietly that he'd almost missed it. He stiffened slightly but he knew she had felt it and she was now gazing at him expectantly. He knew his usual answers of _"she's my best friend, of course I love her" _wouldn't satisfy her, even if that was the only truth he really had to offer.

"Rachel and I are long over," he told her, the words coming out slowly.

"That doesn't mean anything," she insisted and there was a small part of him that was angry at her for pushing this. She knew how hard it had been for him to let go, to make peace with the mistakes he'd made with Rachel. "I see the way you look at her," she continued in that same hushed tone. "It's not wrong, you know, to still love her."

"Rachel's in love with Jesse," Blaine shook his head in denial. "Jesse's in love with Rachel and I am in love with Kurt."

"But are you in love with Kurt because Rachel's in love with Jesse?" she asked and the question made his head spin. It didn't really make sense to him, as simple as it sounded.

"Michelle," was all he said and it must have sounded defensive or like some kind of warning because she sat up immediately, her face fierce and determined as she returned to his eye-level.

"It's a legitimate question Blaine," she said severely, though the concern in her eyes was still evident. "I know you're not like me; I move on from one thing to the next faster than you can blink. When you fall in love, I don't think you ever really fall out. If you could have seen your face when you were dancing with her – god, I don't think I've ever looked at anyone like that. Even you, but you manage to do it with her and with Kurt. It's different between them but it's there and one day, you're going to have to hurt one of them."

"I- I don't- What are you talking about?" Blaine finally said with an uneasy laugh. "I always get confused when you do this, just jump into these things."

"You should be confused," she agreed. "I'm confused."

He didn't really have anything to say after that and she didn't seem to have anymore questions as she leaned into Blaine's side, curling up into a ball as they watched late night black and white reruns. She fell asleep, and he thought ruefully how easy it seemed for her to do so when he would be up for much longer with only her words for company.

-:-

_**KURT  
><strong>_Kurt liked Michelle, and that was the problem.

He knew about her, of course, had learned all he thought there really was to know about Blaine's fling with her. But that's all she really was to Kurt, a misguided fling his boyfriend had had a few years ago. One who happened to remain his friend, but she lived in Ohio and they were in New York. So even if she stayed in contact and he had to listen to Blaine laugh over some private joke, she wasn't really an active part of their lives and he didn't have to consider her past the occasional phone call.

He would never say he panicked when Blaine asked if Michelle could come for a visit, but the idea bothered him more than he let on; since he couldn't quite put his finger on why that was and he hated to say no just for the sake of saying no, he agreed. It was worth it to see Blaine excited about something after working so hard to catch up in his classes, even if it was seeing an ex-girlfriend or whatever she really was. At the end of the day, Blaine was happy and that was what Kurt had wanted.

When he walked in the door on her first day to see her sprawled all over Blaine on the couch – and that Blaine was letting her – his first instinct had been to give into the surge of jealousy he felt. He squashed it down as he said hello and it disappeared completely when she cleared room for him on the couch to sit next to his boyfriend. Even if they did kind of ignore him, the gesture of inclusion was nice and it gave him a chance to take in his first real look at her. She was considerably average, was his initial thought, with blonde hair that feel in waves down to her chin, bright and animated yes, a pretty enough face but nothing that he would have taken a second look at.

It wasn't her looks that held Blaine's attention though, he soon came to realize, but rather her personality. He found himself laughing along with them at her jokes and animated story telling. She had an abundance of energy which she channeled into an effortless wit. She was smart, rattling off statistics for anything off the top of her head, and incredibly articulate. She almost never seemed to stumble over her words and there was a confidence in her that he found himself marveling at. It was attractive on her, and he could start to understand the appeal she held for Blaine, even if he didn't feel it himself.

That's when the panic really set in; seeing her and seeing Blaine with her, it caused something to change in his eyes. Blaine was bisexual. Of course he'd known this for years, this so-called fact about his boyfriend, but he'd never seen it on display like this. Blaine had chemistry with women, held an attraction towards them, and it wasn't because he was rebounding or experimenting. It was as real and as natural to him as sleeping and for Kurt to see it like this, it was as terrifying to Kurt as it must have been thrilling to Blaine.

"You're just now realizing this?" Jesse scoffed a few days later at Rachel's apartment while he and Kurt gathered up pounds of snack food to take up to the roof where the others were already hanging out.

"Would you keep your voice down?" he hissed, glancing towards the open window and praying no one had heard him. "I'm just saying that I've never noticed it until he got around Michelle. It's just a little concerning."

Jesse merely lifted an eyebrow in response, his pointed gaze seemingly hinting at something that Kurt should have obviously known, but offered no explanation even when Kurt explicitly asked him for one. "You should learn to pay a little more attention, that's all," he said and he might as well have been speaking in riddles for all the good it did Kurt. No one seemed to understand that this felt _new _to him, not matter how old the news really was. Even Rachel hadn't had much to say and he'd thought that if anyone would emphasize with him, it would be her. After all, it hadn't been that long ago when Blaine had more or less come out to her.

The logical thing would have been to talk to Blaine about it; after all, he really just needed a little reassurance that no matter who or what Blaine found attractive, it was Kurt he wanted to be with. But this insecurity was embarrassing and his head was already full of conjured images of Blaine's disbelief and hurt, or worse, his laughter. He wouldn't mean it maliciously but it would hurt all the same and Kurt didn't want to put them through that if he could avoid it or work it out on his own.

He'd come close to talking to Michelle about it on the one afternoon they both found themselves free and he decided to take her on a tour of the fashion district while he did research for a report due at the end of the semester on fabric trends of the summer. She'd been especially chatty that day and while he asked with an obvious interest about her past relationship with Blaine, he couldn't bring himself to ask if... well he really didn't know how to word it exactly. All he really knew was that it felt like a whole world had opened up and was trying to storm into his and Blaine's relationship and it worried him.

Even worse, everywhere he looked, someone seemed to be hitting on Blaine – man, woman, and everything in between – and he just didn't really know how to handle it, especially given Blaine's inherently friendly nature. When he felt comfortable, he was a physical person. He liked to touch, to hug and kiss, to invade personal space and it was suffocating Kurt to watch him with other people, to notice these things. Part of him was sure Blaine has always acted this way, but the way he held Michelle or teased Jesse, or even looped his arm around Rachel's hips was driving him insane to the point that he snapped at some tiny little nameless girl for drunkenly stumbling into Blaine and fluttering her long eyelashes at him one to many times.

"What was that about?" Blaine whispered as he crawled into bed next to him later than night. Kurt had already buried himself under the covers in shame, but Blaine's soft hand on his shoulder coaxed him out, though he couldn't bring himself to turn over and face him just yet.

"We're okay, right?" Kurt asked in a defeated voice just as Blaine's fingers stopped their tracing along his arms. "You're not bored with me and wishing you could run off with some leggy blonde or anything?"

"Where did this come from?" Blaine asked, a little incredulous, but mostly kind and concerned; a reaction Kurt hadn't really considered as a possibility. It gave him a little more ground, a little encouragment.

"It's so stupid," Kurt laughed humorlessly. "I just suddenly feel like you could have anyone you wanted and I really mean anyone. Seeing you with Michelle, it just clicked for me that you were- that you _are _bi and I'm mildly freaked out about it."

"I don't understand," Blaine sighed, laying down next to him; Kurt turned over then to find Blaine staring at him intently, his expression clouded in a way Kurt had never seen. It was sad and heavy, but at the same time gentle and open. "You knew about Michelle."

"I just never thought of it as a separate thing," Kurt admitted, his face heating in disgrace once more. "I've never seen you with a girl Blaine, so even though you said you're bisexual, I never really saw it before now. I never saw Michelle as anything other than you trying to get over our break-up. I was wrong clearly and you don't need to explain it to me, but it just- it scares me? You have all these options and you stay with me."

"Because I love you," he breathed. Kurt had heard these words a thousand times before but tonight, it offered very little comfort.

"What if one day you decide you don't?" he choked out, all the worry and frustration focused in that one question. Blaine didn't say anything, as if he could sense that Kurt wouldn't necessarily believe him in this state. Instead he just wrapped his arms around Kurt's shoulder, his bare legs tangling with his own and pulled him completely into his body. It was warm, tight, encompassing and Kurt mentally compared to the way he has seen Blaine hug others over the week. It wasn't the same, he knew instantly. It was just for him, for them.

Things were better after that as Kurt realized it was just something he was going to have to accept. This was part of Blaine's life, but he was a bigger part, and as long as he trusted in that, they would be okay. He might still get jealous, but that was his issue to deal with. At least he and Blaine were relatively on the same page about it and he could see when they went out that Blaine made an effort to keep some boundaries around people they didn't mutually know.

"You take care of him." Michelle said to him on her last day. "God knows I won't be around to do it anymore."

"Of course," Kurt agreed as he hugged her goodbye, and he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude towards her as he did. She had brought him and Blaine closer, filling a distance he hadn't known was there. "Thank you."

"For what?" she laughed, tugging the lapel of his vest with a smirk.

"Just for being his friend," he smiled, figuring it would be weird to tell her the real reason. "He's lucky to have you."

"Well you have me too," Michelle insisted with a laugh. "I already put my number in your phone. You call me anytime, okay?"

"You sure?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, her eyes going soft as she spoke. "I was wrong about you, and I hope you know me well enough by now to know I never say that. You're a good guy." She looked at him and he could have sworn there was a hint of sadness hidden behind the blue. "Just let him be happy okay? No matter what it means."

Her words were curious to him, filled with a meaning that only she seemed to know. But her smile returned to her lips in less than a heartbeat, as she turned on her heel and marched down the hall, yelling at Blaine to finish packing her suitcase before the plane left without her.

-:-

_**JESSE  
><strong>_Summer had come and gone; in fact, the new year had already started and Jesse might have been hesitant to admit it, but things seemed like they were finally going well. At least, they had the potential to go in that direction and after the disaster that the previous year had been, he liked to think he deserved it. The crisp January air bit at his face, but he couldn't bring himself to care too much as Rachel clung to him and snuggled her way into his jacket. It had been awhile since they were this good around each other.

Rachel had just started her senior year at NYADA when Jesse found himself facing one of the biggest failings of his life, the worst since he had flunked out of UCLA. His company had shut down, the doors to his little theater chained shut and Jesse St. James was officially unemployed. He had put Los Angeles and instant stardom in the past when he came to New York, focused on making his own way and for once, things seemed to be working out for him. His success was different than he'd always imagined - spending most of his time backstage rather than front and center had a learning curve – but his company group was a source of pride, somewhere he could do to every day, point at and say _"I did that". _Then one breezy September morning, after years of dedication and perseverance, it had been taken from him by sheer corporate greed.

Rachel had tried to be supportive, and Jesse had really tried to let her, but he couldn't see how she could possibly understand. She was still in school, she had training and credentials coming her way; which may not amount to much in the acting world, but it was better than nothing. And that's what he had, nothing. No matter how often she reminded him that he'd worked for other theaters, had taught other classes, it all amounted to nothing without a noteworthy show on the books. It was her optimism that annoyed him the most, especially since he couldn't share it with her. She could still afford to be the dreamer that she was, but he had to be realistic and not so deep down, he resented her for that.

They'd had problems before that, normal problems that came from having dated for so long, but this just seemed to kick everything into overdrive. Their petty arguments evolved into all-out screaming matches. They didn't even fight about anything new anymore, it was always the same things and he was just so tired of having to do it day in and day out. The worst part of it was every time she slammed that door, every time she walked away in a huff, he knew where she would go. Back to him, always back to him, and even though he knew they were carefully and strictly platonic, it didn't make him feel better to know that all the comfort she really needed, she could find in Blaine's arms.

He couldn't really be sure when his resentment towards the two of them had started, but by the time he noticed it, it was already too firmly in place to do anything about it. Not that he had any reason to, his fears weren't unfounded after all. They shouldn't have been as close as they were, not after their stint as secret lovers, but even that hadn't fazed them for too long. Even though Jesse was the one dating Rachel, sometimes he still felt like the understudy, merely filling in for Blaine's absence.

After she slammed his door shut for the fourth time in as many days, each fight worse than the last, Jesse had decided he and Rachel needed a break. A real one this time, one where they avoided each other for a few weeks before trying to work anything out, because the on-again, off-again cycle they had fallen into over the last couple of months wasn't doing either of them any good. So that's what they did over Thanksgiving all the way through Christmas when a few days before New Year's Eve, he couldn't fight the need to see her and just like that, they fell into each other again.

And it really was good, as good as it had been when they first began.

"You should stay over tonight," Rachel whispered in his ear, her eyes big and dark under the streetlights that flickered outside her apartment building. He bit back his signature playful smirk, instead opting to kiss her in response. She sighed happily into his mouth, deepening it on her own accord and looping her arms loosely around his neck. She stepped backwards and he followed, stumbling against the door of her building when she pulled away with a giggle and sauntered over to the elevator.

He had her pressed against the wall as soon as the door closed and they started towards her floor, the jerky movements only serving to bring them closer. His lips were at the base of her throat, teeth grazing her flesh with every sharp intake of breath. She was practically forcing herself into his hands, pressing into his chest, arching her back as his hands slipped over her thigh, pushing the hem of her dress dangerously high. He knew they were getting carried away, but she didn't seem to mind as they got off the rickety elevator, her hand tugging him onwards to her door. She fumbled with the key when his hand glided down her hips until her door finally opened and they stumbled across her apartment, falling together onto the couch.

His jacket came off immediately, his shirt with it as he slipped his hand once more up her thigh, searching for and finding the seam on her tights before he rolled them down. He didn't remember unzipping her dress but it was hanging off her frame, inviting his touch. He almost had it completely off when there came a knock on Rachel's door. She groaned, glaring accusingly across the room. "Just ignore it," he said, dragging her lips back to his to distract her.

But the knock wasn't just a knock; it was a frantic pounding and it got louder and more desperate with every passing moment. Rachel was tense underneath him, whatever the mood had been completely vanished. "Unbelievable," Jesse muttered as he got off the couch. He didn't even bother with putting on a shirt, hoping that whoever was on the other side of the door would notice the state of his undress and take the hint to leave. He flung open the door in aggravation with a hostile "what?"

He froze, just as startled to see Blaine as he was to see him. "Of course it's you," he muttered under his breath before taking in the other boy's rumpled appearance. His clothes were a far cry from the perfectly pressed attire he normally wore, his hair was an tangled mess of curls and he was shaking. Literally shaking, from his knees to his arms that were locked protectively around his torso and all the way up to his red-rimmed yes and tear-stained cheeks. His eyes were dry now, but it was clear he had been crying and Jesse immediately squashed the seed of annoyance that had risen inside him.

"This is a bad time," Blaine said quietly, his voice raspy. "I'm sorry."

"Blaine?" Jesse turned to see Rachel by his side, her dress perfectly in place. There was obvious panic in her eyes as she noticed all the things Jesse had already seen. Her voiced ached with concern: "Oh my God, Blaine what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," he muttered over and over again, blinking quickly and he kept looking at Jesse, kept apologizing even as Rachel stepped between the two of them, her hands caressing his face in a soothing manner. He leaned into her touch, the way he always did, but Jesse couldn't fault him for it. Not like this, not when he looked so broken.

"It's okay," Jesse said, and Blaine seemed to crumble in front of him. He might have fallen to the ground if Rachel hadn't been there to catch him, to hold him up, her arms around him as he clung to her. He buried his head in her shoulder and a great sob escaped him, wracking his entire body. She held him so tight her back went rigid and her legs started to trembled, but she stood strong for him, whispering in his ear.

"What's happened Blaine?" she repeated over and over, getting no response out of him but a fresh round of sobs. "It's okay. I'm here, okay? Don't shut me out."

"Should I call Kurt?" Jesse wondered out loud and Rachel shook her head, reminding him that Kurt was currently hundreds of thousands of miles away for a family get together before she turned all of her attention back to Blaine, who was fading quickly in front of them.

"Michelle," Blaine finally choked out and Jesse's heart seemed to seize in his chest. "She- there was- accident- she's dead." Blaine crashed to the floor with that, taking Rachel with him, but she held on. His head was cradled in her lap as she stroked her hair, silent tears falling from her own eyes while Blaine sobbed. Jesse couldn't even care that Blaine's hands were all over her bare legs, didn't care that Rachel's entire world revolved around him. He was in pain, rightfully so, and maybe, for the first time, he could really understand why they gravitated towards each other so much. Rachel had all the strength Blaine needed, she would be the one to hold him together while he tried to fall apart.

Eventually Rachel managed to get Blaine composed enough to stand up and come inside, but it didn't last long as he collapsed onto her bed almost immediately. She didn't leave his side except to get him some water. He had tried to tell her was fine, that he just needed needed someone to talk to and he'd panicked when he couldn't get a hold of Kurt. He told her he would just go home, but she vehemently shot down that idea. Blaine hadn't protested too much, Jesse assuming he was grateful that she wouldn't send him away. She made him lay down and she glanced at Jesse as if to say she was sorry before she lay down with Blaine, her arms protective around him.

Jesse should have left, he knew that, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he settled down on the couch, hiding behind the high back, and did his best not to watch them. He gave in a few times, and they were always the same. Intertwined with each other, her hands in his hair as she kissed his forehead, his cheek, his neck, anywhere she could except his lips. It was just for comfort, Jesse knew that, but it killed him a little inside. They had been there, not too long ago, in a completely different fashion but somehow what she was doing with Blaine, fully clothed, was more intimate than even his closest moment with her.

He could hear them too, whispering and crying together, and that was even more troubling that watching them. She was promising him that he would be okay, that no he wasn't ever going to lose her, that she would never leave him. That she loved him. She loved him and he was her best friend and that would never change and Jesse wanted to cry or scream because he knew it was the absolute truth. It was his old jealousy rearing it's head and he felt sick with himself for even acknowledging it now, when his friend was so hurt and devastated. Blaine had lost someone he cared deeply about, lost her suddenly and there had been no one there for him. He had to go searching for it and Jesse was supposed to be a better friend than this.

But Blaine didn't need Jesse, he needed Rachel and Jesse was a big enough, mature enough person to ignore everything else so this could happen. It was all he could really do for Blaine, and really, it might as well have been nothing. Even if he had protested, tried to argue with Rachel about it, she would have shut him down and sent him home. If he had put her in that situation, she would have chosen Blaine. She _had _chosen Blaine. She always would.

-:-

Jesse woke up with a sore back and cramped legs the next morning, as he didn't quite fit on Rachel's couch. He bit back a groan as he sat up, not wanting to disturb the quiet that seemed to cover the apartment. It wasn't exactly peaceful, as a soft rain pattered against the window and the gray light filtering though the blinds cast a shade over the walls, but it was calm in a way. It was an appropriate answer to the night before.

He stood up silently and his eyes drifted towards Rachel's bed of their own accord. She was still there and wrapped up so tightly with Blaine he could barely tell they were separate people. They were facing each other, sharing the same pillow, hands clasped together, legs folded between them. He was curled into her, almost like a ball and she looked like a shield next to him, battling his demons while he slept. It was enough to break Jesse's heart.

The part of him that told him to leave last night finally won over. He had to get out. He didn't belong there, not now, not like this. He scooped up his jacket, wincing when his phone fell out of the pocket and rattled loudly on the floor. His head snapped up to Rachel stirring, though she didn't seem to realize where the noise had come from. Her eyes merely focused in on Blaine's still sleeping form and she gazed at him with a sad smile. Her fingers ghosted through his hair, the lightest of touches when a shock of recognition passed over her features and she sat up quickly, searching out Jesse and caught him watching her.

The moment hung between them, but Rachel was the one to make the first move by sliding carefully off the bed and tip-toeing towards him. Her embrace was unexpected, but he welcomed it regardless. She took him by the hand, her fingers intertwining with his as effortlessly as they had with Blaine's and she led him towards the door. She spared Blaine one last glance before she followed Jesse out in the hall, taking care to shut the door softly.

"I'm sorry about last night," she said quietly, her expression utterly sincere. "You didn't have to stay."

"It's okay," he found himself saying and amazingly enough, believing. "Blaine needed you. He needed his friends. I just hate seeing him so torn up about this."

Rachel quirked her eyebrow at him, an act so aching familiar he didn't even have to guess what she meant. She knew he wasn't okay with this and he couldn't be sure exactly what had tipped her off, but there was no use hiding it from her. The most he could do was not make her feel guilt about his jealousy. Because as much as he wished he could find a deeper meaning, and as much as there might have been deeper feelings underlining her actions, but it all came down to her being a good friend, to being Blaine's best friend.

"Rachel," he said with a deep sigh, determined to stay rational. "It's okay. I get it."

She just shook her head, opening her mouth as if to say something and Jesse found that he really didn't want to hear it. He silenced her by pressing his lips to her. It was light and undemanding and he let himself melt into her momentarily before pulling away.

"I know one day it's going to come down to him or me," he kept his eyes closed as he whispered against her lips, "and I know I'm going to lose."

"Jesse I-"

"I know," he said although he really had no idea what she might have said. It was his way of stalling as he forced his words to squeeze past the lump in his throat. "We would have a great life together. We'd be perfectly content, happy even with framed Playbills surrounding our combined Tony wins on the mantle. But we'd be a ticking clock."

She was soaking in his every word, and for a moment, he believed that she could see that life with him, and that only made things so much harder. Because while she might be able to see that with him, he knew that Blaine was still there in that world, whereas in his, Blaine was nowhere to be found.

"I am in love you," he professed, his hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he spoke. His voice was gentle in a way he had never known himself to be, "and it's because I'm in love with you that I can accept now that you will one day leave me for Blaine. But until then, can I just pretend that I have a chance with you?"

"Where is this coming from?" she asked, sounding so small.

"Just a chance," he repeated, avoiding her question, "because I can live with that. It's better than nothing."

She stayed silent this time, didn't jump in to protest or tell him he was crazy. She just shook her head again, just as she did before. Still, it shocked him a little when she reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, pressing her mouth against his in a kiss completely opposite of what his had been. It was desperate, longing, and deep. He wanted to believe it was for him, for only him. He needed that and as he fell further into her kiss, he almost did. It was a chance at least.

-:-

_**RACHEL  
><strong>_She let Blaine sleep in for as long as he could, knowing that when he woke up, the pain over his friend's death would hit him even harder. So she emailed his professors, called his job, and texted his friends to let them know what had happened. By some miracle, they were all sympathetic and she was grateful for it meant he had less things to worry about while he grieved. And she so hoped he would, that he would allow himself to be angry and upset beyond the initial shock. She couldn't bear to see him shut down, or bottle it up. It would destroy him and it would be the last thing Michelle had wanted.

It had kind of gone unspoken between them that Blaine would stay with Rachel until it was time for Michelle's funeral, and to her relief, Blaine went through the general motions of mourning, He got angry, he cried, he would be quiet for hours on end before the cycle started over again. It was hard to watch, but it was better than the alternative. The only time she really worried about him was when Michelle's parents had called to tell him they had set a definite time for her burial, tearfully asking that he be there. He had strangled out a yes and hung up the phone and seemed to forget how to move for the rest of the evening.

He also apologized, over and over again, for barging in on her the way he had. He asked after Jesse, asked if he was upset, but she just reassured him that everything was just fine. He didn't need to worry about it and really, she didn't really have an answer for him. Jesse's words had left her spinning in confusion. She'd known he was insecure with her relationship with Blaine, they'd fought about it an immeasurable amount of times, but she'd never realized that he felt like such a second choice. It really wasn't the truth, as far as she was concerned, but she could appreciate how Jesse might feel that way, especially right now while she was taking care of Blaine.

He probably could have looked after himself, but she just wasn't going to let that happen, especially when it meant he would have to go back to an empty apartment since Kurt was still out of town and seemingly unreachable. Blaine shouldn't have to be alone with this. He deserved to be surrounded by the people who loved him, the ones who were still there, and right now, it seemed all he had was her.

It seemed he felt the same way, which was something she really didn't expect. After systematically calling Kurt for two days, he had stopped trying, instead focusing on making arrangements with Rachel to travel back to Ohio for the funeral. Then, out of the blue, Kurt just showed up at her doorway, eyes full of concern and pity, but Blaine was having none of it.

"Where were you?: Blaine snapped without any kind of preamble or greeting, the hard edge in his voice matching the steel in his eyes.

Kurt faltered; clearly he hadn't expected this amount of vitriol from Blaine. "You know where I was," he finally said. "I was with my Dad and Carol and Finn in the middle of nowh-"

"No, where _were you?"_Blaine yelled, the dark anger he'd been feeding into for days seeming out of him. "I needed you! I called you a thousand times and you didn't answer for two days."

"What would you have me do Blaine?" Kurt argued back. "Charter a plane?"

"That's what you're supposed to do!" Blaine screamed. "You could have at least picked up the phone. You're supposed to be there for me. You're supposed to cry with me and tell me stupid little lies like everything will be okay. _I needed you _and you weren't here!" and with that, Blaine slammed the door in Kurt's face, and it felt like her entire apartment shook with the impact.

-:-

The funeral was nice, but she doubted Blaine noticed most of the details. On the surface, he seemed to be holding it together as he spoke with Michelle's distraught parents or consoled any of the mutual friends they'd had, but Rachel knew he was on the verge of breaking down. It was in the way his voice wavered at the start of every sentence, in how his hands shook ever so slightly when he pulled away from a hug, and how his eyes never wandered far from her own. She so wished she could do more for him, but all she could really do was hold his hand during the service, and never let go. Even when his grip became painfully tight, she held fast as if through this she could somehow send him strength.

The service hit her harder than she thought it would. She'd only met Michelle once, but she'd liked her well enough. She didn't expect to cry, but she found herself choking back noiseless sobs during the priest's overture, and she wasn't even sure why. Part of it was for the girl they would have to bury later in the day, but she knew herself well enough to know it wasn't just about Michelle. Jesse's words were haunting her and sitting there with Blaine, she had to wonder if he was right. She cared about Jesse, she loved him and she was sure of that, but she wasn't in New York with Jesse trying to work out their relationship, she was in Ohio with Blaine. Because Blaine needed her, because she couldn't bear to think of him being on his own and going through this; but Jesse had needed her as well. He needed her to stay with him, to pick him over Blaine and she hadn't been able to do that.

Blaine was in pain and that clouded her judgment faster than anything else. She hadn't even tried to reason with him when he told Kurt to stay away from the funeral. She knew Kurt was upset over Michelle's death – a friendship had formed between them during her brief visit in the summer, even if she was mostly out of sight, out of mind – and she knew that Kurt wanted to be there for Blaine. He wanted to be the one holding his hand as they sat in the pew, to hold him when he cried, had wished he'd been there when Blaine got the first call. But he was at a loss on what to do since Blaine, in his anger, didn't want him there. He kept in contact through Rachel, though she could tell he resented that. Even that didn't seem to faze her though as all her thoughts came back to Blaine.

He remained eerily silent at the graveside service and opted out of returning to her parent's house for the reception. He said his goodbyes, told her mother she could call him for anything she needed, and as he turned to walk towards the car, Rachel could see a tear escape his carefully put together facade. When they were further from the crowd, she brushed it away and held him tightly to her. His muscled trembled under her touch but it wasn't until they were halfway back to his old house that he had any sort of breakdown. She pulled over to the side of the road, wincing as she listened to him empty his stomach with a series of wet heaves. The grass stained her dress as she kneeled next to him, rubbing circles into his back until he was settled enough to get back in the car.

"I didn't realize it would be a closed casket," he whispered later that evening as they lay in his bed. No one had come to check on them since they'd retired to his room after she coaxed him into eating a light lunch if only to get a little food back into his system. It was the first he'd spoken since then too and she gazed at him, waiting for his to continue. "I knew she had been in a car wreck but I did- I didn't think it was so bad."

"They said she wouldn't have been in any pain," Rachel said, reminding him as much as herself.

"That's almost worse," he sighed heavily as he stared vacantly at the ceiling. "She didn't even see it coming. She just stopped existing. Michelle, she always- life was her favorite thing and she didn't even get a chance to- it was just taken away from her."

"You have to remember that part of her," Rachel said kindly, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek and turn it towards her. "She was your very good friend for a reason Blaine, and you have to remember her as that. The end of her life is least important when you remember who she was."

"She helped me understand who I am," Blaine choked. "I don't think I could have done it without her. She was the first girl I ever let myself have feelings for, ones that I didn't hold back because I was 'gay'. She taught me so much and I never said thank you. I never told her how much that meant to me, how much she meant to me. And now she's gone and she'll never know."

"Blaine, she knew," Rachel assured him, pulling him closer until his nose brushed against her own. "You can't go through something like that with someone without them knowing just how important they were to you."

"But I never said it," Blaine argued wearily. "There's so many things I never say and before I even a chance to bulk up the courage to do it, it's too late. It's always too late."

"She knew," Rachel repeated. "She knew because she loved you."

There was a shift in the air it seemed, one familiar to her even if it had been over a year since she let herself fall into it. His eyes sharpened with intensity as he gazed at her, his hand that had been resting on her hip all afternoon carried a different weight. His skin under her hand was blazing and she suddenly seemed to realize exactly how close she was to him. He was as close as a second skin and she got lost in that feeling. Emotions were running high, she knew this was the excuse she would use later to justify why she didn't pull away, but her body wasn't responding in a rational way. It wasn't responding at all, in fact. She couldn't move and he seemed trapped under the same spell as if breathing would break it.

His lips parted and a thousand possibilities flashed through her mind. She didn't know his intentions, could only guess at them and a darker part of her hoped they mirrored her own. But if they did, it wasn't right. Not like this, not this way when everything was so broken and fleeting. Not when he felt so helpless and she so guilty. It shouldn't even happen at all and that's why she did was she did next, before he could say or do anything to stop her.

"You should call Kurt," she breathed and the moment, whatever it had been, shattered.

* * *

><p><em>I write, you read, you review, and I write more.<em>


	8. Chapter Eight

****Disclaimer: I do not own _Glee.__  
><em>

__**AN:** So, sorry it took me over a month, but my life has been a little crazy between closing down my store and finding a new job and having a sister who likes to steal my computer charger. But here, this is about 15,000 words and a lot of things happening, so maybe that will make up for it.

**_-obligatory smut warning-_**

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER EIGHT<strong>

_=:= two years later =:=_

_**BLAINE  
><strong>_The music in the bar was loud, but it did nothing to drown out Rachel's laughter as they spun around on the floor. There weren't many people dancing, but the ones that were had moved off to the edge, giving them plenty of room as Rachel twirled, her skirt a whirlwind around her knees. Blaine caught her by the waist, gently guiding her back towards him and she fell into his arms. Trust shone in her eyes, a keen as her gasp of surprise, and he cradled her in his hands, dipping her low until her loose hair almost touched the ground. She grinned broadly as she stood back up, the music fading as the song in the jukebox changed.

"That was unexpected," Rachel breathed in quick little pants, a flush brightening her cheeks; there were many times over the course of his knowing Rachel that Blaine though she never looked more beautiful than when she had a blush under her skin, and this was no exception.

"A little spontaneity goes a long way," he quipped, holding her hand high about her head and spinning her once more, catching her back to him as she came to a graceful halt, "don't you think?"

"In our lives," she murmured softly, a strange touch of longing embedded in her words, "it certainly does."

Before Blaine could respond – whether in agreement or in question, he couldn't be sure - a gruff voice called from behind the bar. "Anderson, your break's been over for ten minutes now!"

"Just keeping the customer happy!" Blaine shouted over his shoulder at Marco, who only snorted in return before yelling at him to get his happy ass back behind the counter. He dropped Rachel's hand as they made their way through the relatively busy crowd. As Blaine ducked under the divider and moved to wash his hands in the sink hidden under the brew station, Rachel took her seat next to Jesse, placing a small kiss to his lips before he gulped down the last of his beer.

"I'll have another one of those. If you're done dancing with my girlfriend, that is," Jesse said with an easy smile that didn't match the burn in his eyes. Blaine merely rolled his own and refilled Jesse's glass, ignoring the way Jesse looped his arm around Rachel's shoulders with a possessiveness that was just short of standing on the bar and beating his chest. His friendship with Rachel had somehow come to change his friendship with Jesse: where they had once been mutual respect, there was suspicion and jealousy on Jesse's part, and a general irritation and distaste on Blaine's. And though they both knew the deterioration of what Blaine would have once called a close friendship was centered around Rachel, it was for Rachel's sake that they kept a cordial enough acquaintance.

Four years, Jesse and Rachel had been together, but there was still nothing Blaine could ever say that would convince Jesse that Blaine's feelings for Rachel would always be platonic while Rachel wanted Jesse in the picture; and while Blaine wanted Kurt. Any romantic inclinations he had towards Rachel, such as they were, had been put aside. Still, Jesse seemed to take offense to every little touch they shared, every joke, every hint that they had ever been anything more than friends, and if it wasn't for the pain it caused Rachel, then Blaine would have found a kind of twisted satisfaction in getting under Jesse's skin as so few could.

"Where's Kurt?" Blaine asked with a pointed look in Jesse's direction as if reminding the other man that Blaine had his own boyfriend to worry about.

"Yes, where did Kurt run off to?" Rachel echoed, scanning the crowd as best she could from the bar stool. "It's not like him to disappear. He doesn't really like it here."

"I can't believe you two used to sneak in here," Jesse retorted, his fingers tracing the rim on his untouched refill. "It's a dump. Of all the places in New York you could sneak in to drink in, you chose this one."

"And now I work here," Blaine interrupted, shaking a mixed drink into a glass for a pretty blonde boy whose ID had _said _he was 21 leaning against the bar. He slid it across the counter, taking the carefully folded ten dollar bill from the blonde, who told him to keep the change, giggling as Blaine winked at him in thanks. Blaine shook his head in humor as the boy walked away before turning back to Jesse. "And you get to drink here for free, so unless you want me to cut you off, I suggest you be nice about Marco's bar."

"It is kind of funny," Rachel said with a slight nervous chuckle, the same one she used whenever he and Jesse would start being snide to each other, "that Marco owns this bar now, considering he would let us drink when we were under age, and even more so that he hired you."

"Marco's a good guy," Blaine shrugged, "and you're the one who told me I needed to get a better job than Starbucks if I wanted to stay in school until I completed my Masters degree."

"I didn't mean in a bar!" Rachel laughed, "and I certainly didn't intend for you to still be here after a year."

"I make good tips here," Blaine said with a carefree shrug, shaking his full tip jar in front of her.

"He's making more money on a nightly basis than all of us combined," Kurt agreed as he joined them once more, leaning over the bar to place a quick kiss to Blaine's cheek and asking for a dry martini . "Out of all the classes we took at NYADA, persistent unemployment was not one of them."

"We're not unemployed," Rachel insisted.

"Well Jesse is," Blaine couldn't resist the urge to say and didn't even have to look up from mixing Kurt's drink to know Jesse was outright glaring at him. The venom in his voice as he responded was enough.

"I'm freelance," Jesse spat and Blaine forced down the desire to laugh in his face. "Just because I haven't done anything in over a month doesn't mean I don't have opportunities."

"And there are several studios looking for instructors," Rachel said gently, a hand wrapped around his upper arm as he guzzled his beer. "He interviewed today for a permanent position teaching contemporary dance techniques just today."

"It must have gone well," Blaine teased, "for you to come see me at work immediately after."

"Screw you Anderson," Jesse grumbled.

"I'll have to ask Kurt first," Blaine retorted immediately while passing Kurt his drink, who was openly glaring at him, but it was a small price to pay for rendering Jesse practically speechless.

"Boys, please," Rachel said with a sigh as she stood up, angling her body between Jesse and Blaine as if there wasn't already a bulky wooden counter separating them. . "Jesse have a wonderful interview today. I went to my final call back for _Mamma Mia _today and Kurt is on the short list to join a rather exclusive company as a potential director. I don't think any of us, despite how unemployed we feel, have anything to be ashamed of."

"I didn't mean to say you did," Blaine interrupted, a little taken aback.

"I know you didn't, which is why there's no need to fight about it."" Rachel said kindly as she turned to Jesse, "Now I'm not done dancing. Would you care to join me?"

Jesse shot Blaine an unneeded triumphant smirk as he let Rachel lead him away from the bar and into a dark corner on the makeshift dance floor. He watched them a moment as Rachel held Jesse close to her and they swayed to music in a minimal way. He knew they were both much better dancers than they were currently showing; but Rachel wasn't trying to dance, he realized, but rather talk. Her lips moved quickly, Jesse's in return, and though he had no hope of knowing what their conversation were about, Blaine hoped it wouldn't end up in a fight as so many of their 'talks' did nowadays.

"I don't know why you have to bait him" Kurt sighed next to him, giving voice to the twinge of guilt Blaine now felt. He tore his gaze from the dancing couple and focused on Kurt instead with an apologetic smile. "Honestly, you two act like you're not even friends."

"Maybe we're not anymore," Blaine suggested, a whisper of sadness in the statement. "We never did have much in common."

"Well no one can argue that," Kurt laughed as he sipped his martini. "I think the only thing you two ever really shared any interest in is Rachel."

Blaine nearly dropped the beer mug he was filling up on his foot. The man who had ordered it screamed something about not using the newly sticky glass and Blaine willed his hand to stop shaking as he reach for a new one as he apologized and slid the beer across to the man who left in a grumble. "Rachel?" Blaine repeated when he turned back to Kurt, wiping away the beer he has spilled on the counter. "What does Rachel have to do with it?"

"I'm just saying that she's the only thing you and Jesse have in common," Kurt glanced at him curiously. "She's your best friend, he's her boyfriend, you both think you know what's best of her. And since she's more likely to take your advice over his, I guess it's no wonder you and Jesse fight like Finn and a loofa."

"How is Finn, by the way?"

"He's fine: married, baby, tire and car shop. He's happy, but," Kurt said, "that's not what we're talking about; I was trying to talk about you and Rachel."

"I thought we were talking about Jesse," Blaine said in deflection.

"By association, maybe," Kurt said briskly as if it were his way of brushing Jesse out of the way. He reached across the counter and took hold of Blaine's hand, their fingers automatically intertwining. "Don't get me wrong, I love that you two are such good friends, but I can see why he gets so upset with you. You're the one Rachel goes to over any little thing. You have this hold over her or something. She has the same one over you."

"She's just been through a lot with me," Blaine insisted, squeezing Kurt's hand gently in a gesture of assurance. "Though all my fights with you, and that minor identity crisis I had when I decided to go after a double major in music and business. And I wouldn't have made it through Michelle's funeral without her, especially after I pushed you away."

"I know that," Kurt smiled sadly. "Even two years later, I know that for whatever reason, you needed her more than you needed me then. I'll never figure it out, but there it is."

"Kurt-."

"It's fine," he said quickly, sitting back in his seat. "Jesse's not that understanding though, so even if you don't like each other anymore, you don't have to always remind him that Rachel likes you better."

"That's ridiculous," Blaine scoffed, throwing his sopping wet rag into the sink. "She loves him."

"Of course she does," Kurt said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "but that doesn't mean she likes him all the time."

"Well do you like me all the time?" Blaine asked curiously.

"No," Kurt laughed, looking down at his nearly empty drink, "but I'm hopelessly in love with you, so there's a lot I can forgive you for."

"I love you too," Blaine said with a smile, reaching for Kurt's hand again and holding it until Kurt returned his smile, albeit a bit nervously. He could tell there was more that Kurt wanted to say and it was uncommon for Kurt to hold back from any subject. "Okay, out with it," Blaine demanded, lazily tickling Kurt's wrist.

"I'm not sure this is something I want to talk about in a bar," was Kurt's vague answer, but Blaine's insistent gaze must have convinced him otherwise as Kurt scooted his stool as close to the counter as he could, leaning over to get closer still until he could properly whisper his thoughts to Blaine. "I know we're still young, and obviously this would be a long way off, but have you ever thought about us having a family?"

Blaine choked in surprise; he hadn't really had an inclination to what Kurt might say, but this he hadn't expected at all. "A fam- like a baby?"

"I guess," Kurt said shyly, then shook his head and spoke with a steady voice. "No, that's exactly what I mean. It's just, after spending the week with Finn and his new little boy, I can't help but think about how that's something I want. How it's something I want with you."

"Yeah but," Blaine said in a rush, unable to keep the slight note of panic out of his voice, "we're not in any position to have a baby. Forget the fact that we're not married or that we can't just 'accidentally' have a child like other couples can – Kurt, we're barely making it financially as it is. If you get this job in the company, we'll be better off but it'll be nowhere near enough to support a baby. And I still have one more year before I have my masters degrees and then I have to find a job and-."

"I know, okay?" Kurt hissed at him and it wasn't until that moment Blaine realized how loud he had gotten. "I know all that, you don't have to lecture me. I've already been looking into it and for a couple like us-"

"You've been looking _into it?" _

Kurt carried on as if Blaine hadn't spoken. "It takes a long time, that's all I'm saying. I'm 25 now, and you're only a year younger than me. If this is something we even think we might want, it wouldn't hurt to be prepared for it now, so that when we're 30 or whatever, it doesn't take us another five years to figure it all out."

Blaine ran his fingers through his hair, the curls tangling around his hand. "I don't know what to say," he whispered as quietly as he could, "but you're right, this is not a discussion we should have in a bar."

"Just think about it," Kurt pleaded, as if that wasn't going to be the only think Blaine could think about for the rest of the night. "Keep an open mind. Like I said, it's still probably a long way off."

It was at that exact moment that the jukebox finally ran through it's current queue and a flood of customers surrounded the bar. Blaine shrugged apologetically before he left his quiet corner to drown in the new flood of orders, silently grateful for the distraction. It did nothing for the buzz of shock going through his head, but it was at least an escape to hide away and lose his thoughts for a little while.

-:-

_**RACHEL  
><strong>_"You know he was just teasing," Rachel sighed for what felt like the tenth time since she and Jesse had left their little group under the pretense of sharing a dance, but really she just wasn't in the mood to listen to Blaine and Jesse bicker and make not-so-subtle jabs at each other. She couldn't even say she was surprised when it happened anymore and while she had never explicitly asked Blaine why _he_ was so hostile towards her boyfriend, there was no mystery why Jesse retaliated in the same way. It was the same issue from two years ago, a month ago, last week, just on Monday.

"He was being a dick," Jesse replied, his voice low and harsh. "Can you for once, just once, be on my side instead of his?"

"I was on your side," Rachel gasped. "I am."

But it didn't matter; she could scream until she was blue in the face but nothing she might say to Jesse that would make him feel like she wasn't protecting Blaine in a way. She highly suspected that Jesse wouldn't even be mad right now if it had been Kurt or anyone else who had made those comments, but since it was Blaine and because she got between them, she was siding with Blaine and Jesse couldn't stand that. It was ruining their relationship more than she liked to admit, but there wasn't much she could do about that either; at least, not in any way she would deem acceptable. Because she wouldn't give up her friends for any reason, and she feared if she asked Jesse what she could really do to make it better for them, he would ask her to do just that.

So she let his snide comments slide, as long as he said them to her and not to anyone else and waited for the day it all got better so that she might move on with her life instead of playing referee between two grown men. Honestly, it was exhausting and they both should know better. She knew it was wearing on Kurt as well, especially when it was Blaine who seemed to encourage the situation, but as far as she knew, Kurt and Blaine didn't fight about it the way she fought about it with Jesse. With them, it was annoyance; with her, it was a struggle.

"Did you even hear me?" Jesse asked suddenly, his voice cutting through her like a knife. She couldn't answer as she really had no idea what he'd been saying, and he seemed to realize this. He scoffed, "I need some fresh air," and walked out, ignoring her apologies as blatantly as she appeared to have ignored him.

There was nothing quite as awkward as being left along on a dance floor, especially just when a slow song came on and you suddenly stuck out like red wine on a white suit jacket. And of course, she was as far away from the bar as humanly possible in the building, which meant instead of slipping off without drawing any attention to herself as she would have liked to do, she was forced to mingle through the crowd of dancing couples. She made it about halfway through without stepping on anyone's toes and only breaking up one girl from a guy who actually looked a little relieved when a hand looped around her stomach, trailing to her hip before settling obscenely low across her back.

"You look a little lonely," said an unfamiliar voice in her ear, a voice to match an unfamiliar face. Dark eyes, dark hair, with a grin more like the slit of a snake's mouth rather than an actual smile.

"I'm fine," Rachel said tersely, stepping backwards in an attempt to loosen his grip but his hand stuck to her like glue. "You can let go of me now."

"No one should ever let go of you," he said with a slick voice that she supposed some girls might find charming, but left her feeling as if she had rolled around in dirt, "a tiny little thing like you, you could get lost."

"I have a good sense of direction," she hissed at him, digging her nails into his hand so that he might let go, "and you should have to good sense to leave me alone."

"Just one dance, little thing," he breathed, clutching her to his chest despite her awkward attempts to push him away. Rachel made a strangle noise of disgust as he took her hand and began to weigh the consequences of kicking him in the knee when someone interrupted them. She nearly sagged in relief.

"Is there a problem here?" Blaine asked, his honeyed eyes dark and brewing, his hand wrapped securely around her own. The man loosened his grip without really releasing her from his embrace, but Rachel took the opening to duck under his hand and step behind Blaine.

"We were dancing," the man said.

"It looks more like you were harassing her," Blaine responded.

"Really? I think she likes playing hard to get," he sneered, reaching for Rachel who swatted his hand away angrily just as Blaine moved so that she was completely behind him now. Blaine stood to his full height, which was still several inches shorter than his opponent, but Rachel knew the secret strength that lay under his wiry muscles and spry frame. She could see the shuffle of his feet, the slight curl of his fingers into half-fists, all mimicking a very relaxed boxing stance.

"I think," Blaine said, his voice heavy with unspoken threat, "that you should walk away."

"You're going to make me?"

"Blaine, it's okay," Rachel whispered, her hand pressed against his back to be sure she had his attention. "It's over, I'm fine. I just want a drink."

She could feel the tension in him, how badly he didn't want to be the first to leave, but his shoulders relaxed just slightly under her touch and she knew he would listen to her. He turned to look at her while still managing to keep one wary eye on her unwanted dance partner. "You're sure?" he whispered back. "I could get him thrown out."

"It's fine," she said, tugging on his shirt. He stepped backwards and they turned away from the man, heading towards the bar. Rachel released the breath she had been holding during the whole altercation, keeping her hand on Blaine's back, on his arm, anywhere really that kept her linked to him. She knew she wouldn't let go until she was off the floor, just the feel of him was comforting and safe. Familiar, friendly, wanted. Everything that guy hadn't been.

"I hope you don't expect her to leave with you tonight," that man's oily voice called out. "Something tells me she never leaves with the same guy she comes in with."

Blaine was faster than she gave him credit for, whirling around and marching straight to the man until they were practically standing on top of each other. "What did you say?" Blaine demanded, his voice low and dangerous as Rachel rushed back to his side, trying to pull him away. Kurt had appeared out of nowhere it seemed, his angry face obvious he had heard the man's comment.

"Come on, she's danced with half the guys here already," he chuckled darkly, "and with a skirt that short, you have to wonder where she keeps the money."

Blaine struck hard, palms flat against the other man's chest, causing him to stumble backwards. "Say it again," Blaine growled as the man came back at him, fist swinging wildly towards him. Rachel screamed and found herself being pulled out of the way by Kurt; she stumbled and fell to the ground looking up just in time to see Blaine sidestep easily away from another poorly aimed punch.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked frantically, but it was a different hand who pulled her to her feet; Jesse's and he looked absolutely livid.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" she insisted.

"What the hell is he doing?" Jesse barked as Blaine narrowly avoiding getting hit in the face. "You could have been hurt."

"I'm not, I'm-."

Feedback from a disconnected speaker drowned out her protests and the crowd froze as if it had been doused with ice. Marco shoved his way through, standing between the two brawling men. Blaine had the good sense to stop his part of the fight, but the other man lashed out anyway, the blow catching Blaine by surprise as he took it to his ear. It was the only way the man could have possibly hit him, Rachel knew, and it was a low and dirty move. She nearly lunged forward herself just as Blaine did, but Kurt's hands caught hers just as Marco caught Blaine by scruff of his neck and held the other man at bay by his shoulders.

"Out!" Marco commanded, shoving the man towards one exit, His friends hustled him out as quickly as they could and as soon as the door clanged shut, Marco released Blaine and shoved him towards where Rachel stood with Kurt and Jesse. "You too Anderson."

"I didn't do anything Marco!" Blaine argued, his ear a bright red where he had been hit.

"Get out!" Marco demanded, ushering them like a herd towards the employee entrance. "Take your girl, your boy, whoever the hell you're here with and don't come back until I call you. Am I clear?"

"Marco-."

"Am I clear?" he repeated, gathering the group's personal belongings and handing them roughly to Rachel before he corralled them out the door. It slammed shut behind them and Rachel stared dumbfounded after it. Next to her, Blaine kicked at the door before he groaned, his head in his hands as he leaned against the wall. She snapped out of her little spell, immediately turning her attention to Blaine and his injury as she moved his hands away and inspected the side side of his face. As far as she could tell, there was no real damage; no cuts, no blood, just irritated skin. There might be a bruise, if anything. She ran her fingers gently down his jawline and he seemed to lean into her touch.

"Are you insane?" Jesse shouted and Rachel cringed, it was so loud.

"Yes, please, help me go completely deaf," Blaine snapped back.

"It'd be less than you deserved," Jesse snarled. "That's my _girlfriend _you almost got killed in there."

"Honestly, that's an over-reaction," Rachel said with a heavy sigh as she stood up, ready to fend off another argument between the two.

"You were on the ground Rachel!"

"I fell!" she insisted.

"She just fell Jesse," Kurt said in agreement and Rachel couldn't help the smug grin that stretched across her face at having backup. "I pulled her out of the way before anything really started."

"Still," Jesse remained undeterred, "she wouldn't have been in danger if Blaine hadn't been there to make things worse."

"I was protecting her!" Blaine yelled defiantly. "You ran out of the bar having a temper tantrum and left her alone in the middle of a room full of drunks and assholes and one of them decided to help himself to your girlfriend while you weren't there. He practically called her a whore, what was I supposed to do?"

"It wasn't your fight!" Jesse was practically manic as he shouted at Blaine, kicking a piece of broken brick towards him. "When are you going to figure it out? You're not her hero and you're not her boyfriend."

Rachel felt like she had been slapped in the face, the words cold and biting and as she looked around, it seemed as if everyone had had the same reaction. Jesse had all but frozen except for the deep breaths he only ever took when he knew he had gotten out of control, but his face was set with a grim determination. Rachel could only imagine how long he had waited for that to be said, and the look on Blaine's face – a mask of utter shock – was his reward. She hoped it was worth it, as Blaine looked like someone had shaken him to his deepest core and then ripped it out through his chest. And just beside him, was Kurt, his eyes blown wide in wild panic before dissolving slowly into a sad and secretive gaze as he turned to face Blaine; it was a reaction Rachel couldn't even begin to understand, but she felt like she should have.

"I know that," Blaine let out in a shaky breath.

"You forget that," Jesse amended for him, his voice calm and collected, though increasingly cold.

"Maybe you do too," Blaine replied steadily, glaring at Jesse with renewed vigor. Jesse made a harsh move towards Blaine and Rachel froze to her spot in the alley, completely unsure of what to do. What she even could do, if these two were so determined to go at it. Thankfully it was Kurt who stepped in as an unexpected voice of reason between the four of them.

"Stop it," Kurt demanded, making it clear he meant business. "This is getting out of hand. Jesse, you were gone and Rachel was in trouble. Blaine was right to step in, but you're right. It wasn't his fight." Blaine made a small noise of protest but fell silent as Kurt turned around on him. "It wasn't your place Blaine," he repeated, locking his gaze onto his boyfriend's, "but we all know there's not much you wouldn't do for Rachel."

"You can't seriously be mad at me for this," Blaine muttered.

"I'm not mad," Kurt answered with a miniscule smile. "It's just one of those things, you know, the ones I end up forgiving you for."

Confusion washed over Rachel as Blaine seemed to shrink at Kurt words. Whatever that meant to the two of them, it was enough to take the fight out of Blaine. Even if she didn't understand it, she appreciated it as it gave her the chance to go to Jesse and take his hand. "It's been a long day," she said loud enough that everyone could hear her, but keeping Jesse in her sight so that he felt like she were talking to him. "Let's just go home and get some rest. Tomorrow we'll forget all about this."

Jesse muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "I doubt you ever will" but she, like so many other things, let it go. In the corner of her eyes, she saw Kurt take Blaine by the hand and she held onto Jesse's as they all walked out of the alleyway. She glanced back only once to find Blaine; he was staring at his feet as he walked, though he looked up as soon as her gaze fell upon him, sensing her like only he ever could. She gave him a watery, grateful smile, which he returned, before she huddled closer to Jesse for the silent walk home.

-:-

"London?" Rachel squealed in excitement as Jesse spun her around her living room, knocking over a lamp which crashed to the floor, but she didn't care.

"London!," he laughed as she set her down, positively vibrating with elation. "I'm going to get to work on one of the biggest stages in the world. My work, my choreography."

"I'm so proud of you!" she exclaimed as they collapsed onto the couch. "How did this happen?"

"Apparently one of the students I've been teaching is the daughter of a a big-time director over there," Jesse gushed. "He's been working over here for the last six months and when his daughter won her competition using my solo, he was impressed enough to ask for a meeting. I had no idea."

"And he just offered you a job?" Rachel smiled, "just like that?"

"Not exactly," Jesse explained, stretching out on the couch before he stood up again, as if he couldn't bear to sit still, he was so elated. "He watched my classes for about a month, asked about how many awards the kids won using my dances. I impressed him somehow and he told me he was looking for a full-time choreographer in his company in London when he moves back. I didn't even realize what he was asking me until he started talking about how he would pay for all the moving and travel expenses and would help me find a suitable place to live."

"Jesse, this is so wonderful," Rachel practically cheered.

"I want you to come with me," Jesse swiveled on his step, falling to his knees in front of her as he clasped her hands in his. "It's London, Rachel. A whole new city, with all these other opportunities to explore right at the tip of our fingertips. I'll be working and you can audition there."

"I have an understudy part in _Mamma Mia,_" she said as a gentle reminder.

"And in over a month, you haven't even gotten to come out behind the curtain," Jesse said, tucking her hair behind her ears, looking earnestly into her eyes. "You belong on that stage, front and center. We could do that in London, together. I want to go with you."

She thought back, eight years ago when she stood in front of Finn Hudson as he asked her to give up Broadway and New York for California, and how adamant she had been that she didn't belong anywhere else in the world. She didn't have that feeling now, sitting with Jesse as he asked her to move her dreams overseas, to an entirely different country. Instead she felt like this was something she could do, wanted to do. All she had to do was say yes; and so she did.

The next few months went by in a flash. Jesse split his time between her and traveling with Mr. Clarke, his new employer, to London as he helped Jesse get better acquainted with the city and the customs. It left no time at all for romance, spare a few brief kisses her and there, but she figured they would make up for it when they were both settled down in London. Rachel stayed behind to take care of the moving preparations, such as rearranging Jesse's lease so that he could give up his old apartment, changing her own lease to a monthly rental until she was ready to move out permanently. She bid farewell to her cast members with only the slightest regret that she hadn't been able to join them on stage even once. Soon her life was just a pile of boxes, packing materials, and tape.

"I wish you would stay," Kurt cried as the final weeks drew nearer. "It just won't be the same without you here."

"We'll talk every day," Rachel insisted, pulling him into a tight hug, "whether it's email or Skype or even if you call me in the middle of the night. It'll be like I never left."

"Who am I going to drag to Saks and gaze longingly at all the things I can't buy with?" Kurt sniffled, which he tried to hide with a laugh as he hugged her closer. They rocked side to side, giggling in a way they hadn't since they first moved to New York together and her heart began to ache as she realized just how much she was going to miss him. He must have read it on her face as he took her face in his hands and said, "Don't cry, you'll make me cry even more."

"It's just so different this time," she sighed heavily. "I'm so used to you being there with me when things like this happen."

"We still have two weeks," Kurt said brightly, wiping away his own tears. "We'll make the most of it, starting right now. I'm going to go get some food and then you, Blaine and I are going to lock ourselves into your apartment like the good old days."

She watched him walk out the door, rubbing at his eyes, before she turned around and glanced around her apartment. The yellow walls had faded slightly, the orange too, melting into an illusion of a soft sunset; she had painted those walls, over five years ago and it was strange to leave them behind. She couldn't exactly pack them up, and she knew that even if she memorized the colors and used them again half a world away, she could never replicate the memory of them, or the memories they held for her.

"He's right you know," she heard Blaine say as he stood up from behind her couch, tossing an empty roll of tape onto her table. "It's not going to be the same without you here."

"We'll keep in touch, I promise," she said again, moving to join him on the couch as he sat down.

"But you won't be here," Blaine whispered sadly as he lay his head against her shoulder. "I won't get to do this, or play with your hair, or go dancing with you. I won't be able to skip classes and spend all day with you in Central Park or trade meals when you don't like whatever you ordered. You won't be able to call me at three in the morning to watch the new Broadway posters go up in Times Square."

Rachel gulped, a hard knot forming in her chest. There were so many things she knew she was saying goodbye to, and logically, she knew one of those things was Blaine but somehow she had failed to realize what that really meant. "I'm happy for you, don't think I'm not," he continued on to say. "I'm just going to miss you so much."

Anything she might have said would have been impossibly insignificant, or a lie, so she said nothing at all. Instead she gathered him into a tight embrace and held onto him, tiny tears falling into his hair. If he noticed, he said nothing about them and they sat in silence. She could feel a thousand things go unspoken between them, but that was their nature, she guessed. Except for once, it almost felt wrong. For once, it was like they were almost out of time, and she didn't know when she would get more; but it hurt enough as it was to envision what it would be like to really leave him behind, she wouldn't make it harder on them both.

They stayed like that until Kurt returned with their food and true to his word, Kurt locked the door behind him and she spent her evening sitting comfortably with Kurt and Blaine on either side of her, watching all of their favorite movies until they passed out together from exhaustion. Her last thought slipped through her mind like water in a stream, speaking with a sense of calm that didn't match its full meaning: _I can't leave them; I can't leave him._

She spent the next week in a panic, trying to push that thought away, to convince herself she was just getting cold feet and would feel better as soon as Jesse showed up and they left for their new lives together. But Jesse came, as excited as he had been three months ago and all she could feel was a foreboding sense of dread that draped over her with the semblance of a wet and cold blanket. She even caught herself shivering once or twice, which she couldn't very well blame on the warm spring air. It would be summer soon, her first in what felt like a lifetime that she wouldn't spend in New York.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Jesse finally asked her, five days before they were set to leave. They had just finished moving all of his things out of the storage unit Rachel had rented for him, waiting for the courier service to arrive so they could go on and send Jesse's belongings ahead. They would come for Rachel's only three short days later and while everything she owned was currently packed in boxes, there was so much she was leaving behind.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, as she sat on a pile of boxes, picking at the rubber sole on her shoe. "It's just so hard to say goodbye to all of this."

"All I feel is relief," Jesse said, looking at her quizzically when she glared at him in disapproval. "What? This city became just one big dead end for me. London is a chance to start over and leave everything that tried to trap me here behind."

"It's not like that for me," Rachel sighed sadly. "I love this city. This is my home."

"We'll make a new home," Jesse said, "together."

"It'll be wonderful," she tried to smile, but couldn't seem to manage more than a slight curve to her lips while Jesse continued to frown at her. "But you really won't miss any of this? You won't miss the Broadway street sign, or walking by your studio or your friends? Kurt and Blaine-."

"I knew he had something to do with this!" Jesse exploded. "What did he do; ask you to stay?"

"He didn't!"

"Of course he did!" Jesse practically roared, "and you listened to him, didn't you? Because you can never tell him no."

"That's ridiculous!" Rachel shouted back, hands on her hips as she stood up. "Blaine doesn't control me and as for telling him no, I've done that more times than I can count. I broke up with him, remember?"

"And that's just been the worst mistake of your life, hasn't it?" he spat. "I won't do this again. I won't let you drag him along when I'm finally getting rid of him. You have to choose Rachel."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she whispered, the words like sandpaper in her throat.

"Him or me," Jesse demanded, "because either way, you're going to lose someone."

-:-

In the end, Jesse made her choice for her. He didn't call, didn't come to talk to her one last time, he didn't even wait for her, just took her plane ticket with him as he flew away to London two days early. He just left her behind, as if she had already made her decision. In a way, she supposed he felt like she had; her hesitance spoke more to him than if she had actually told him that she couldn't leave with him. Part of her thought she might have still have said yes and agreed to go with him if he had only given her the chance to shake off her cold feet, or at least listened to her. But somehow, she knew deep down, she wouldn't have.

And it wasn't even for the reason Jesse thought it was – at least, not completely. She had meant it when she called New York City her home. Her entire life, she searched for a place she belonged, somewhere she could fit in and carve a place for herself in the world and she did that for herself in New York. She knew, no matter where she went in the world, it would never feel as much like home as the city did. Leaving it behind, after it had given so much to her, didn't feel right; and that was how she felt about Blaine too. There was so much of who she was know that she could directly tie to him and the thought of really leaving him behind hurt more than she could have ever anticipated. Jesse was right, in his own way, that she was staying for him.

No, Jesse may have left her before she said anything out loud, but she had made her choice the moment Blaine told her how much she would be missed.

She started unpacking boxes, slowly putting her life back in order, starting first with her bedding and then moving onto her clothes. Anything to remind her that this was her home, where she lived and loved for the last five years; at the bottom of the third box, she found an old sweater, the navy blue having faded into a much softer almost royal blue. The letters had once been red, but had since fallen off with age, but she could still see where they spelled out Dalton Academy across the front. She didn't even remember packing it and could only imagine what it might have been like if she found in while in London. Would she have felt the desire to slip it on, as she did now, to feel the soft cotton against her skin as if it were Blaine himself? Would she have cried, realizing how far away he was from her now?

He wasn't gone, she reminded herself; but he thought she was leaving she realized. He and Kurt were expecting to take her and Jesse out tomorrow, one last time, one last big goodbye. They didn't know she was staying in New York. He didn't know and before she could stop herself, she was dialing his number. "Blaine," she breathed, his name on her lips like a prayer.

"Hey," he said happily. "Kurt and I were just talking about where you guys might want to go tomorrow."

"Jesse's gone," Rachel said quickly and she could hear his sharp intake of breath.

"What do you mean he's gone?" Blaine asked, low and demanding, but oddly comforting to her.

"He left for London early this morning," she explained, a sharp pain in her chest as she tried to hold back her tears; she had loved him, despite what he left thinking. "He left me. I'm not leaving." He only said her name but it was so full of sorrow and heartbreak for her that she couldn't hold back her choked sobs and she could feel the breakdown crashing over her. "Can you come over? Please? Just you?"

"Give me fifteen, twenty minutes," Blaine promised and she hung up the phone, setting it shakily on the kitchen counter before she sunk to her knees on the floor. She didn't wipe her tears away, just let them fall as she let herself feel Jesse's loss for the first time, let it be real. She had lost him, just like he'd said, but to have five years of love just end the way it had, it hurt. It hurt that he hadn't believed in her, that he hadn't let her explain, or try to understand where she was coming from. It hurt her that she couldn't give him everything he wanted, that she never knew exactly what he needed. They let themselves fall apart in the end and all the fighting and struggling meant nothing but a bigger wound to try and heal.

Blaine found her, exactly seventeen minutes later like he said he would, and immediately pulled her into his lap, his arms buried in her hair as she sobbed. She tried to explain to him, to anyone what she needed Jesse to hear. That she loved Jesse, that she wanted to be with him, but she couldn't leave everything behind for him. That she couldn't give up the place she felt safest in the world and she was sorry that place wasn't with Jesse. She was sorry that is was with Blaine, and how badly she needed him, how her life didn't make sense if he wasn't in it.

Blaine didn't say anything as she rambled, but she knew he understood her. She felt it in his hands as the smoothed down her hair, his steady grip on her hips, when he wiped her tears away and clutched her tighter to his chest. Eventually her sobs came to a slow, sputtering halt and she ran out of words. Her heart ached but Blaine's arms were like a balm around her, slowing taking her pain away from her little by little. The feeling stayed with her even when she parted from him to clean herself up in the bathroom, washing her face of all left over tears; maybe it was the smell of the tea he had put on to brew for her, maybe it was the warmth of his sweater but she felt just slightly little less fragile as she walked out of the restroom.

"I told Kurt you were going to be okay," Blaine said as he handed her a hot mug. She took it from him with shaking hands and took a sip before setting it down on the floor next to her bed. She sat on the edge of the mattress and Blaine sat next to her without hesitation. "You are going to be okay."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. His shoulders touched hers as he leaned into her, his arms next to hers and their fingers once more intertwined. It was such a simple thing, really, nothing they hadn't done before, but somehow it felt different to her. Intimate, more than friendly; or maybe it had always felt that way and she just hadn't let herself fall into it. But she could feel it now, and with a start, she realized she had no reason to shy away from it. Blaine was already as close to her as physically possible, all she needed to do was turn her head. So she did.

Some would barely consider it a kiss at all, it was so soft and feather-light and lasted barely a second before she pulled away. His breath caught in his chest as he looked at her. "I meant it, you know," she heard herself saying, "I can't imagine my life without you. I need you."

"You'll always have me," he breathed, and it washed over her, filling her with an absolute peace. It was as if a weight she hadn't known she was carrying lifted off her shoulders and melted away. She dropped his hand and moved her own to his shoulders, playing at the open button on his shirt, her fingers slipping under the collar. She thought she felt him shudder, but it could have just been her own nerves as she leaned towards him again, her lips finding his once more.

She knew he shouldn't be kissing her back, shouldn't be opening his mouth to her as she deepened their kiss, or letting her straddle his waist with her legs; but he was and that was really the most important thing to her at the moment. Feeling him pressed against her, she'd forgotten what it felt like, how her body would mold to fit his and fill every dip and angle and how his did the same to hers. He fit with her like no one else ever did, and she found she missed it more than she had ever imagined.

Her hands trailed under his shirt, lifting it up and over his head and then with her palms flat against his chest, she lay him down. Their hips seemed to lock together as she bent down to kiss him, lips tracing an imaginary path across his jaw, his neck, to the curve of his collarbone where she found her purchase, taking his skin between her teeth with a quick nip. He groaned, his hands bunching into her hair as she soothed the wound away. It was with some disappointment she realized it wouldn't leave a mark but suddenly his hands were tugging at the Dalton sweater she still wore and her worries were chased away by his fingertips ghosting up her spine.

Her sweater and shirt came off together, the move causing the straps of her bra to slip down her shoulders. He slipped his thumbs underneath them, guiding them down her arms until she was free of them. Blaine sat up, keeping her pressed against him and his lips latched onto her breast, the cotton rubbing against her, teasing her until her breath shook in her chest and she reached around to unhook the bra herself, flinging it away just to feel his touch against her bare skin. He growled in appreciation, flipping them over so that she was pressed against the bed, hands held down to the mattress beneath her. He kept her from touching him, though she tried desperately as he took her flesh into his mouth, biting and suckling in all the right places until she nearly cried in frustration. She wrapped her legs around his hips tighter, the only purchase she had to keep him close to her.

"Blaine, please," she begged. She didn't even know what for, but he released one of her hands and that was good enough for her. It snaked between them, searching until she found the buckle on his jeans, snapping it open and forcing the zipper down as she reached down and wrapped her hand around him. His hips buckled into hers, and her name fell from his breath as a strangled moan as she slowly flexed her fingers, stroking him as slowly as he kissed at her breasts, then a bit faster as he teased her neck, but her hand stilled as his tongue flickered around her ear like a candle's flame, teeth tugging gently at her skin and for a moment, she forgot everything else but the way he felt right then and there.

She felt him move her hand away from him as if she were coming out of a daze. She must have whined or something because he chuckled, the sound deep in his chest as he kissed her, full and open as his hands passed over her breasts once more and down her stomach until his fingers hooked around the elastic of her skirt. He pulled it down her waist, brushing between her thighs and she threw her head back, suddenly needing his touch to return to her and it was taking far too long to get her skirt past her knees. She kicked it off in haste, and he went back for her underwear with the same urgency, patience long forgotten. He kissed her again as he parted her legs. His fingers moved with purpose across her skin, finding her center only a mere second before sinking into her just as he bit down on her lip.

Her back arched into him, urging him forward and he pressed another into her, fingers crooked upwards in unison. Each stroke seemed to reach deeper into her; she gasped in surprise when she felt his mouth wrap around her clit; she hadn't even realized he has stopped kissing her. His only free hand was spread across her stomach, holding her down every time her hips shuddered; hers were bundled into his hair, curls spilling though her fingers, as she tugged and pulled, anything to keep a hold of him. And then, just as quickly as he has started, he stopped. She didn't give him a moment to breathe as she pushed at his shoulders, forcing him to turn over and she straddled him once again. The button on his open jeans dug into her thigh painfully and she tore at them; he rolled his hips up and she forced the offending denim from his body, his boxer briefs following suit.

She couldn't say exactly who made the move that connected them, but suddenly it was like there were of one body, moving and churning and tasting and existing in the same moments. Even the air in her lungs felt like it had come from him as he filled her in every conceivable way. It wasn't even just physically – though every time he moved inside her, she felt as if her very nerves were unraveling underneath her skin – but it was in the way her name left his lips and wrapped around her heart, his touch was an anchor in her soul that kept her tied to him and how he just felt so right in her arms. He felt like coming home.

They lay in a tangle of limbs, neither willing to move from the other even after the each fell apart at the others' hands. She kissed him, lazily, and she knew in the morning this would all catch up to them, that what they had just done left them open and vulnerable to as much grief as they had ever known, but she wouldn't let herself car about that just now. After everything, she just wanted to lay down with him, to feel his warmth seep into her skin, listen to his heart beat in time with hers.

"I love you," he whispered and his eyes shone so bright with truth that it seized her lungs and stilled her heart. His eyelashes fluttered as he fought against sleep; it was a battle he was quickly losing and she pressed her lips to his once more, barely more than the tease of a touch, but his eyes closed and his head rolled down onto her chest as he fell asleep waiting for her answer – an answer she wasn't sure she was ready to give.

-:-

_**BLAINE  
><strong>_The cold was the thing that really moved Blaine to fight through the haze of consciousness he'd been drifting in and out of over the passing hours, reaching his hand out with sore muscles and searching for warmth. But the sheets beside him were as frigid as the ones around his waist, all traces of heat long gone. He reached out again, further and further until his fingers found the opposite edge of the bed, everything in between empty. A different kind of chill dripped down his spine, settling as ice in his stomach as he tried to force his eyes to open. He ignored the whisper in his heart as he lifted his buried head from the pillow, blinking slowly. The morning sun filtered through the shades, soft and still, making real what his hand already found to be true.

Rachel was gone.

Blaine started awake, all drowsiness gone in an instant. There was no sound from the bathroom, no running water or soft hum to lead him to her, no scent of brewing coffee or tea from the kitchen, and the window leading to the fire escape and the roof was latched shut. His feet were heavy as he stood up. "Rachel?" he called, only to be met with silence. He shuffled forward, his bare foot hitting a pile of clothes on the floor; his clothes, carefully folded and placed one piece on top of the other according to size. His wallet and keys rest on top, his phone to the side and turned off, something he never did.

"Rachel!" he called again as he slipped into his boxers, his voice sounding a little bit stricken even to his own ear, but he already knew there was no one there to hear him. Still, he searched the apartment for her, even venturing up to the roof and out into the hall. He searched for a note saying that she went out to pick up breakfast but would be back soon, for anything that might tell him where she had gone as long as it meant she hadn't just left him.

He turned his phone back on, ignoring the messages from his mother and Jesse and even Kurt with little guilt while he scrolled through, looking for her name to jump out at him. It never did; he had nothing from her, nothing at all. He tried to stay calm, to keep himself under control even as he dialed her number, the line ringing incessantly in his ear before the call dropped without redirecting him to voicemail. He tried again, only getting to the third ring before the dial tone took over. With a lump in his throat, he called once more. This time a connection didn't even form. It was just dead air, a destitute silence; It was like she didn't even exist, or like he didn't.

His words from last night crashed over him: _"I love you". A_ heated whisper of promises he couldn't really give but were long overdue. Her eyes had lit up, as radiant as he'd ever seen them, and the part of him that had hidden those words over the years soared. Finally, finally she knew, and not in a vague way or in a way she could guess at; she knew because he had told her, had meant it. They understood each other then, on every level, and even if she hadn't said it back, he had felt it in her touch, pass through her lips, in the inexplicable hold she had over him. Or so he'd thought, but doubt clouded his mind. Had it been fear instead that darkened her eyes, or anger that he mistook her need for release as something else. Maybe she felt used, like he did now; and scared and uncertain of what to do next.

They had changed everything, and not just for themselves, for Kurt too. The realization hit him as hard as being thrown into a wall: Blaine had cheated on his boyfriend of four years. He had cheated on him with Rachel, with their friend, with the one girl Kurt didn't even know Blaine had ever been involved with. Because it was never supposed to happen again. It didn't matter, all the lingering feelings and the imaginary what-if's, the words left unspoken – though he supposed that was out of the bag now. He and Rachel, they were meant to be done and over, but the years betrayed them and suddenly, they were deeper than they'd ever been and she had left him to fend for himself.

His skin prickled, but with what he couldn't say. So many things were happening at once. He wanted to run away, put some distance between himself and her bed, between her, Kurt, his life and the wreck of it that was fast closing in on him. The wreck he had created, he knew, by being weak and selfish; through lying to himself and the people he cared – _loved –_ and now every one would be hurt unless he could fix it. But he couldn't do it without her, without knowing how it had all come to this.

So he did the only thing he thought he could do, which was wait for her.

He waited through the morning and well into the afternoon before he realized that she wasn't coming back, at least not anytime soon and definitely not while she thought he might still be there. If the dropped calls and unanswered texts weren't enough to prove that she was avoiding him, this waiting was. It pressed in around him, offered no distraction as the pure, arrant guilt welled up inside of him and threatened to crush him; her apartment started to feel suffocating, his lungs had no purchase but for the short, sharp gasps of air he could force into them. His chest tightened, his head swam, his eyes watered; he had to get out of there. It had been so easy for Rachel to run, well then he could do the same. He would leave her behind just as well.

As he made his familiar path through the city towards his own apartment, he realized he didn't really have anywhere to escape to like she did. When she left, she could have gone anywhere and for all he knew, she was on a plane chasing Jesse to London, but Blaine had to go home to Kurt and try to piece together enough of a facade so that Kurt didn't know exactly how much this part of his world had changed overnight. If he could afford Kurt just a little more bliss until Blaine at least had some real answers besides _"I don't know; it just happened" _then he would just make sure he was strong enough to hold himself together. Just for a little while, just until he could talk to Rachel. And if he couldn't, then he would tell Kurt himself and deal with whatever came his way.

Kurt was leaning over the dinner room table when he walked in, a blazer spread flat across the surface as he carefully stitched a frayed hem inside the collar. With a satisfied smirk, he cut the thread and shook the jacket out before putting it one, carefully inspecting that the quick fix would remain unseen. It was a simple act, one Blaine had seen a thousand times before, sometimes as Kurt worked on his own clothing, but it caused a sharp pain in his heart all the same, his guilt even tainting this.

"Hey," Kurt greeted happily. "I was worried you weren't going to make it."

"Make wh- shit, I forgot," Blaine said weakly, trying in vain to ignore yet another stab of guilt. By now, he felt as if his heart were riddled with holes. "The art show downtown. Kurt I am so sorry, I forgot that was today."

"We've talked about nothing else all week," Kurt reminded him, his voice lilting with a tease. He was content, excited even, had no cares or worries and all Blaine could imagine was how his smile would fall if he knew what Blaine had done. How his eyes would harden with disbelief until tears began to fall, his voice would become sharp, his words pointed and cruel to hide the hurt he had never seen coming. And Blaine, he would deserve all of it and more.

The thought choked him and he turned away as if to go change in the bedroom, but really he just couldn't look at Kurt without some kind of impending breakdown. "Blaine?" he heard Kurt call, heard the quick steps behind him, be still he didn't turn around until he felt his hand on his shoulder, maneuvering his body to face him. "Are you okay? You look pale."

Blaine leaned forward, hiding his face in Kurt's shoulder, feeling like the worst grade of human being as Kurt's arms came up to hold him. Kurt's hands drew lazy circles on his back, comforting and so loving that something seemed to crack inside Blaine. It was so overwhelming and he couldn't even begin to know where it was all coming from, but he forced himself to hold it together. He had to be stronger than this, he owed it to Kurt above all people and he would not break down over this, not now in Kurt's arms, a place he had given away all claim to.

"Kurt I-," Blaine whispered, his voice so small he doubted it would even carry up to the other's ears. "I'm so sorry. I can't. I'm sorry."

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked, a little more direct this time and in any other world, it should have been the thing that forced all of Blaine's secrets to come out. But instead, it strengthened him – or weakened him, depending on how one looked at it – and he forced the lump in his throat to disappear, locked away his fragile and frayed emotions, and looked Kurt in the eyes. Shining blue, clear and trusting, and it was deceitful of him, but Blaine couldn't lose that just yet.

"I'm just not feeling very well," Blaine answered as honestly as he could.

"Is that all?" Kurt breathed in relief, embracing Blaine once more. "You scared me, I thought something had happened."

"Sorry," Blaine muttered. "I guess I'm just all over the place right now."

"And staying out all day with Rachel probably just made it worse," Kurt said in agreement. Blaine started at Rachel's name, his entire body felt as if it had been locked into place. "She told me you stayed with her after Jesse left. I can't believe he just did that to her."

He could only nod; so Rachel had been in touch with Kurt. She had bothered to call Kurt and give him an alibi or sorts, but she couldn't bring herself to talk to Blaine about it. He should have been angry, he supposed, but it really only served to deepen his sadness. "There was probably more going on than we knew about," Blaine answered as tactfully as he could; it was true, so very true, except Kurt was really the only one in the dark anymore. "But it's done now, and Rachel is... well, she's coping in her own way I guess. I should change if we're going though. We're already going to be late."

"We don't have to go if you don't feel up to it," Kurt offered and the sincerity in his voice was hard to stomach. He really did mean it. Kurt would stay home, no matter how much he had been looking forward to see his friend's exhibit, and take care of Blaine as if the sickness were an actual physical ailment and not an emotional sabotage Blaine had brought on himself. And he didn't deserve that either, to lay in his boyfriend's arms and find comfort there, not when he had thrown it all away for another's last night.

"No, we should go," Blaine responded, sitting wearily on the bed. "Eli worked really hard on this and he's your friend. We should show our support."

"I don't want you to make yourself sick."

"I already am," Blaine scoffed, perhaps a little more harshly than he intended, but Kurt seemed to take no offense. "I'll be okay, really. It's my own fault and I'll put up with it."

"I'm not going to let you be miserable just because you feel like you have to _deal _with being sick," Kurt said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Honestly, this is why you need me, to remind you that everything is not your fault."

"Most of the time it is," Blaine muttered, but if Kurt heard him, he made no move to argue with him and Blaine didn't want to give him the chance. "Then you should go at least."

"And leave you here alone?"

"I'll be fine," Blaine insisted. "I'll probably be better in the morning and you know Eli would rather you were there than me. Go, it's okay."

"You're sure?" Blaine could see that Kurt wasn't convinced, but was torn over keeping his promise to his friend. Blaine took a hold on Kurt's hand, and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles, fighting off the wave of disgust with himself as he did.

"I'm sure," he repeated, keeping his voice strong, hoping it would be enough to convince Kurt to go ahead without him. It seemed to be, as Kurt leaned down and gave him a chaste kiss, promising he wouldn't stay too long and would bring back a bowl of french onion soup from the deli before he departed. There was a momentary panic on Blaine's part of being left alone again, but it was soothed by the fact that it had been his choice this time.

He heard the front door close and lock before he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. There were still no messages or missed calls from Rachel, nothing new at all and he couldn't bring himself to dial her number again. She obviously didn't want to talk to him, wanted nothing to do with him and if that's the way she wanted it, then she could have it that way. He let the anger bubble up and overtake him as the events of the day caught up to him. Rachel carried as much fault as he did and she wasn't there to take her share of it. She had cut herself off from him and this stupid fucking phone was just a constant reminder of it how distant she was, how unreachable. In a futile fit, he threw the phone across the room, and it shattered against the wall. The force of the blow rattled his dresser, sending papers flying through the air as if in a whirlwind before settling down in a jumble on the floor. The one closest to him, he could recognize it even upside down: an article Kurt had been begging him to read, the one detailing the best way to select a surrogate for couples unable to have their own child.

He broke then, letting the tears flood over him until he was sure he was drowning. Anger and guilt were as present as they had been all day, but a kind of mourning took him over and for what, he wasn't sure. For everything, in a way; the future Kurt had wanted for them, the one he wasn't sure he wanted. For the past he never seemed to let go of, the people he couldn't help but love, the lines he crossed and blurred and told himself it was okay to do so. But the thing he felt more than any of that, more than the pain and the anxiety and heartache, was regret.

Somehow, that was the worst of it all.

-:-

A week passed and the only break in his routine of going to school, leaving for work, and coming home to Kurt were the moments that Blaine found to dial Rachel's number. Whether it was between classes, on breaks, while he sat on the couch pretending to watch television after Kurt had already retired to bed, Rachel never answered and he honestly stopped expecting her to. Still, when he looked at his own phone and saw nothing from her, he couldn't fight the need to press down her her name and listen to the line ring over and over again.

Kurt could tell something was wrong, but since Blaine wasn't talking about it, Kurt could only ask so much. He tried to be there for him in other ways and Blaine tried to appreciate it despite the stabbing pains of guilt that seemed to cripple him every time Kurt suggested they watch Blaine's favorite movie, or played disco in the mornings to wake them both up for the day. He didn't mention Rachel at all, which Blaine was grateful for, though he couldn't exactly thank his boyfriend for, not without having to explain why, not without having to hurt him.

The thing he was most grateful for, no matter how rotten he felt for feeling that way, was that Kurt had an all-day workshop with his company which left Blaine truly alone for the first time since he'd woken up at Rachel's apartment. Not that he did anything very different, besides skipping his classes, but it was somehow comforting to wallow on his own. Eventually, after his ritual dialing of Rachel's number, he did get restless and picked up the grocery list from the front of the fridge and walked a good ten blocks out of his way just for the excuse to be somewhere else for a little while.

At checkout, while digging through his pockets for an extra dollar, he found a pamphlet on adoption he'd promised Kurt he would read. He skimmed through it as he walked back, the whole idea still a fuzzy and vague picture in his mind, something so far off in the distance he couldn't wrap his head around it. So he just tucked it into the sides of one of the bags he carried. He dialed her number once more before entering his apartment building. She didn't answer, which was made all the more startling when he reached his floor and he saw her waiting outside his door, hand poised to knock, though she spun around as the sound of the elevator closing filled the hall.

"Hi."

Rachel stood in front of him, her hands fidgeting all across the skirt of her dress as she smoothed down imaginary wrinkles and dusted away lint that wasn't there. Her bottom lip quivered so slightly that he wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't immediately sucked it between her teeth, worrying the soft pink of her lips. Her gaze held steady, as if she were focusing every bit of self-control she had into looking him straight in the eye, though she looked about as lost as he felt and that brought him no comfort. If she was scrambling for all the same answers he was desperately searching for himself, then all his anger towards her over the past several days had been for nothing.

And he needed to be angry; it was all that was keeping him from falling apart. She hadn't bothered to call, to show him in any way that she even cared that they had torn apart lives they had both built over the last few years for one single night that obviously meant more to him than it did to her. The bitter irony was that he had more to lose than she did in all of this – Jesse had already left her after all, but Kurt could still leave him and Rachel, he stopped pretending to know what she would do – but Blaine was still waiting around for his cue from her. Even now, he was still waiting for her; his barely controlled ire returned to him.

"Hi," he snapped back at her, vitriol lacing the single word as he made to move past her to unlock his apartment door.

He kept his back turned away from her, but he could see her in the corner of his eye. She faltered a bit, wringing her hands momentarily before dropping them to her sides. He tried to focus on the keys in his hands, the bags of groceries under his arms, but her voice washed over him like it always did, drawing his attention into her. "I thought maybe we could talk," she whispered, soft like a falling snow and the tenderness was enough to drive him mad. "We haven't done that in awhile."

"Well, whose fault is that?"

"Blaine-."

"No!" he yelled, drowning out any protests she might have made. Groceries spilled from ripped bags as they dropped to the ground and his key broke off in the lock as the door swung open, but he barely noticed any of it, barely noticed anything but Rachel as she took a step back from him. Her eyes widened, flooded with shock. "I called you; ten, twenty times every day. You didn't answer."

"I didn't know what to say!" she argued back, her feet shuffling forward to regain her lost step.

"And you think I did?" he exclaimed.

"No," she admitted, her voice shaking. "I didn't know what to do, okay? Jesse had left and there wasn't – I mean, you were there. You're always there and it was like that was all that mattered. That having you be there with me was all I needed but I woke up and I panicked because you – you can't always be there. You have Kurt and your life and I knew you would just wake up and leave and I – I don't know okay? I just didn't want to watch you leave."

"I waited for you," Blaine responded, though his voice was tight and he wasn't positive it hadn't cracked a bit as he spoke. "I was there all day, waiting for you to come back. You didn't. You left Rachel, not me."

"But I was right," she insisted, "because you're here, at the apartment you share with Kurt, and not at mine. It didn't make a difference, did it?"

"It might have!" Blaine groaned in frustration, his hands running wildly through his hair, across his face, against the back of his neck. Rachel's hands reached out, stilling his roaming hands for an instant before he jerked them away from her. "We changed everything Rachel, one way or another and if -."

"Because of what you said?" she cut him off this time and the vulnerability in the question shook him to the core. It hung heavy between them, reminiscent of the way it had felt for all the years it had gone unspoken. Three words, such tiny little words, that held as much power as a wrecking ball and could hurt just as much. When he'd said them, he had been caught up in a feeling of new bliss, as if he'd been granted a kind of freedom. Now, all he felt was the same pain equivalent to losing a treasured part of himself.

"What did I say?" he found himself asking her. She gulped and looked down at her hands and it was obvious she couldn't say it. For whatever reason, the words wouldn't form on her lips and it didn't matter if that was the only thought she had for the rest of her life, if she couldn't actually say them, it didn't matter. "You can't even say it back to me."

"Blaine, you have to understand-."

"I don't have to understand anything," he said, shaking his head and was relieved when she didn't try to continue on with whatever she might have conjured up to say. It wouldn't have matter any way. He felt absolutely deflated, the tiny hope that they might be able to work this out – as friends, as anything – had completely disappeared. In a way, she had been right: he would go back to Kurt, to his life, and follow that where ever it led him. "But maybe you do. You are the only person in this world I would risk everything for and you don't even see it that way. You say nothing would have changed and I guess nothing will. I won't leave Kurt, not after this. I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for what we did to him so that you don't have to. I love him, Rachel, as much as I love you, and he deserves so much better than what I can give him. But he chose me and I – I owe him this."

"Love isn't owing someone," she muttered under her breath.

"Don't put words in my mouth," he said harshly as he bent down to pick up his scattered groceries. "You know what I mean."

Rachel sighed an apology as she fell to her knees along side him, packing oranges back into the brown paper bag as he shoved a jar of honey and a carton of milk into another one. They worked in silence, not exactly ignoring each other, but not speaking anymore and being careful not to reach of the same items, keeping to their own side as if some invisible line had been drawn between them. He was almost done picking up the broken pieces of pasta that had scattered about the floor when she sat back on her heels, a leaf of paper clutched in her hands.

"Are you," she spoke in a strangled voice, the color draining from her face, "and Kurt going to have a baby?"

His head snapped up; he'd completely forgotten that he had shoved that pamphlet into one of the bags so he was sure to take it back upstairs, but there is was clenched in Rachel's hand as if she might rip it to shreds at any provocation. His own hand trembled a bit as he reached over and took it from her, glancing at the bold ink headline, the word "adoption" leaping off the page at him. "Kurt's talking about it," Blaine said in an even voice. "I told him I'd keep an open mind."

"You're not even married!" she shouted, the sound echoing down the hall as if it had suddenly become a mantra, "or engaged. You're still in school and Kurt's just barely getting started in his company and directing a new play is incredibly stressful and you're only 24 years old."

"It's not something that would just happen overnight," he said and her tongue clicked against her teeth in disbelief. The scene was eerily familiar to him as Rachel seemed to give the same arguments he had given Kurt all those months ago. And he, he was using Kurt's reasoning for her. "This stuff takes a long time. There's forms and applications and Kurt just wants to have the option open to us if it's something he ever decides we really want."

"If he decides?" Rachel repeated and he merely sighed – of course she would pick up on the one thing he'd misspoke on. "Do you even want this?"

"We've been together a long time," Blaine insisted, shoving the paper into his pocket and picking up the paper bags before he stood up. "Nothing ever seems to change that."

"What if something did?" Rachel asked, the question almost pleading in a way he couldn't quite grasp, but it burned in him. In another life, he might have believed she was talking about anything – a sudden death, a fight neither could predict, an explosive secret – that might tear him away from Kurt. But she wasn't, and he knew, but after everything she had just said, after everything he said to her, even the bare hint that things might change between _them, _he couldn't bear that.

"You don't get to ask me that question anymore," he said, turning into his apartment and shutting the door behind him before she could follow. He and Rachel, he realized, were through. Done, the way they should have been all those years ago. She'd made that choice back then, and now it was his turn.

* * *

><p><em>I write, you read, you review, and I write more.<em>


	9. Chapter Nine

_Disclaimer: _I do not own_ Glee._

* * *

><p><em><strong>KURT<strong>_

"I still think you're crazy," his friend Eli said as he stirred a heap of caramel into his iced coffee. Kurt just shrugged – he was used to this reaction by now, having heard it from all directions over the last several months – and followed Eli to a window table with his own drink and let his friend ramble on about all the reasons it would be insane to have a baby. Never mind the fact that Kurt had adamantly told everyone that he wasn't trying to have one _right now_, they were all trying to talk him out of it; it was like opening a can of worms and everyone had an opinion, whether Kurt wanted to hear it or not.

The thing was, Kurt knew it was one of his more outrageous ideas, but his entire life seemed like one big ironic twist of fate. Being a gay man was just more complicated, socially, and he was considered one of the lucky ones just by finding someone he thought he could spend his life with. Adding a family into the mix was practically begging for heartache and disappointment, but maybe he and Blaine could avoid all that if they were prepared; and of course nothing would happen until they were both ready. It was just a thought, to be turned into an idea, to one day hopefully, be a reality and until then, Kurt was happy to let things be.

"You think dating anyone for more than six months is crazy," Kurt replied with a teasing grin.

"And there's a reason for that," Eli insisted, "because if after six months all you want to do is date a guy, then clearly it's not going anywhere and it's not worth your time."

"Some of use are just more romantic than you."

"I like to think I'm the romantic one," Eli laughed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Passion, desire, whirlwind courtships."

"Having sex on the third date," Kurt supplied, reducing Eli to a sputtering mess as he tried to come up with something to say. "Sometimes that works, but other times, it just needs time to grow. I told you about my friend Rachel, right?"

"Yes, yes, the loud one," his friend rolled his eyes, ignoring Kurt's glare. "How she dated your step-brother for years, which was her first mistake, only to break things off with him because they couldn't handle the distance. And then she had a tumultuous affair with Jesse and they were constantly breaking up and getting back together and breaking up. Then he left her out of the blue and she hasn't been the same ever since."

"Exactly, and I know she loved him," Kurt said, stirring the ice in his cup, "but she's a wreck. I haven't really seen her in two months because she's holed up in her apartment crying her eyes out over Jesse."

"But she should cry," he argued. "Love is supposed to be this hot, fiery thing and it's supposed to burn when you lose it. That's normal. You trying to trap your boyfriend into a future with you is not."

"I am not trying to trap him!" Kurt shouted, louder than he intended. Several patrons looked over at him and he had to force himself to lower his voice, but the anger was still there. "I love Blaine, and he loves me, but if that ever changed, we're both free to walk away. The fact is we've been together since my sophomore year in college and is it so wrong to want to plan a future with him?"

"It is when your boyfriend starts running for the hills every time you bring it up."

Kurt sighed and turned to stare out the window, his fingers absently weaving through the fringe on his scarf. "Blaine isn't like me," he said almost wistfully. "He tends to think in the 'now' and when I say 'hey let's have a baby', he thinks I'm talking about bringing one home next week. But he tries, you know? He's read everything I've asked him to read and he's honest about it. He's not against the idea, he just doesn't think it's a good fit for us right now, which I agree with. He actually talks to me about what his concerns are."

"Except not lately," Eli interjected. "You said yourself he's been distant ever since you brought this subject up, right?"

Kurt groaned. He was starting to regret confiding in Eli about his relationship troubles, but every time Kurt tried to go to Rachel about Blaine in the past, she usually ended up taking his side over Kurt's no matter how hard she tried to stay impartial. "No, it's not been that long," Kurt shook his head. "Just in the last two months or so, right after Jesse left. They used to be close, but by the time he moved for London, they weren't really friends. I'm not sure why he's taking it so hard, but if I had to guess, it has more to do with Rachel than it does Jesse."

"What, did Blaine and Rachel have a lover's spat too?" Eli chuckled and Kurt knew it was meant to be a joke, but he couldn't help the frown from weighing down his lips. Eli could jest all he wanted, but the fact was he never appreciated just how complicated Rachel and Blaine could be together, even if they were only ever platonic. Kurt could barely comprehend it most of the time.

"She's his best friend," Kurt tried to explain as best he could. "They need each other, sometimes more than they need anyone else and yes, sometimes I get jealous. She used to be my best friend and Blaine's my boyfriend, but in some ways I think they don't need me. It's hard to compete with that, but I would never try to take them away from each other. But they must have had a fight or something, because they're not talking to each other anymore. He won't admit it, but that hurts Blaine and what hurts him, hurts me."

"You got all serious on me right there," Eli said sympathetically, his blue eyes sparkling with sincerity.

"I take what Blaine and I have very seriously," Kurt agreed. "I lost him once, by my own fault, and I had to fight to get him back. I won't give him up over something as childish as petty jealousy."

"That's admirable," Eli said kindly, pushing his empty cup away from him, "but does Blaine feel the same way? I'm not saying this to hurt you, but if you're really serious about having this grand ole future with him, then it's something you have to think about."

"I have to trust that he does," Kurt said quietly, "until he gives me a reason otherwise."

He finished his coffee, only halfway listening as Eli explained the concept for his new art exhibit to follow up his wildly popular showing a from a few months ago. Kurt was sure it would be magnificent as always, which is what he told him as they parted ways, Eli back to his studio and Kurt to his theater where he could lose himself in the process of directing _The Tempest. _There was something so simple about moving people around on stage, telling them what to do and what to say, how to act and be. If he didn't like it, he could start over, or change the whole thing. He was in charge, with an unlimited amount of do-overs and nothing left to mystery. He knew what happened in this world, and it was always exactly what he wanted. Bad things didn't happen here, not unless he wanted them to.

The real world just different. He couldn't always guess the way the wind would blow and while he liked to believe he had some say in what happened in his life, he mostly believed that to be untrue. Things happened, people changed, lies were told and truths were hard and there was no way to predict when any of this would come to pass. All he could do was hold on tight and try to keep up, praying to whoever might listen that he didn't lose the important things along the way; things like Blaine, like Rachel.

Even though neither of them would talk to Kurt about it, he could feel that something was intrinsically wrong between Blaine and Rachel. They were just fading away. There was no way of knowing what it might be, and he wanted to believe that things would work themselves out, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the longer he waited, in some small way, he too was losing Blaine. He wasn't the type to just sit back and let that happen, so it was as selfish as it was selfless when he called Rachel as he locked up the theater for the night, asking her to come over for dinner. He played his guilt card, said he missed her, that she disappeared after Jesse left, that he felt like she didn't have time for him though he couldn't imagine what she could possibly be doing. It wasn't until he was positive she would turn him down that he sighed and said it was Blaine's idea to invite her over. It wasn't really a lie, Blaine had done this before, though he obviously hadn't meant it for now. A little white lie for the greater good, Kurt reasoned as Rachel paused in consideration.

She said yes, that she'd be over within half an hour and Kurt hurried home. Blaine wasn't working at the bar tonight, and he had no classes for the summer, but he might find an excuse to disappear if Rachel made it to their apartment before Kurt did. Besides, he wanted a chance to talk to her alone first. If she was ready to come all the way over by an invitation he was sure she knew wasn't actually from Blaine, then it was just possible she was ready to open up to him about whatever was bothering her and maybe, just maybe, whatever had come between her and Blaine.

He was relieved to find he had beat Rachel there after all, a quick text confirming she was still a few minutes away. He threw his bag into the closet, along with his jacket and scarf and tidied up the living room as best her could, stashing the take out containers in the trash and hiding the cut up magazines under the couch. He could hear soft humming from down the hall and with a swift look into the spare room, he found Blaine cross-legged on the window seat, a guitar in his lap and his noise-filter headphones snapped around his ears. He scribbled something in a notebook, fiddled with a few dials on his portable switchboard and started humming once more. He would be distracted for awhile, working on whatever track his old band had asked him to mix, leaving Kurt free to speak with Rachel. If things went badly, if she stormed off as used to do so often, then Blaine wouldn't even have to know she had been there.

There was a sharp knock on the front door and Kurt jumped, racing down the hall to answer it before Rachel rang the bell on the off chance that Blaine might hear it through a break in his music. She smiled, not nearly as wide as her usual grin, but she looked genuinely happy to see him as she pulled him into a hug, and giggled "I missed you!" into his ear.

"How are you?" Kurt asked as they walked into the living room and settled down onto the couch. "You look tired."

She really did; her eyes had shadows underneath them that she had tried to cover up with concealer and she sat with her arm propped against the cushion, leaning her head on her hand. There was a lack of energy about her, which was more concerning than anything else, because Rachel Berry was always going. She didn't stop, she didn't wait, she reached for and took anything she wanted and to see her so languid and still, it was unnatural.

"I haven't been feeling like myself lately," Rachel said vaguely, one hand playing with the waistband of her skirt

"Because of Jesse?" Kurt inquired and she nodded, but there was a hint of hesitation before she did. "I know we never really talked about it, but I'm here for you. You know that right?"

She smiled sadly. "Of course I do," she replied, eyes downcast. "It's just hard to talk about it."

"And you usually talk to Blaine about these things anyway," Kurt pointed out and her eyes widen a little in surprise, "but he's been avoiding everyone lately, so I guess you haven't been able to talk to him either."

"Is he okay?" she whispered, her tired eyes fixed on his like a pair of dark magnets.

"He's fine," Kurt assured her, eyebrows quirked as she seemed to sag in relief. "He's a little moody and spends most of his time playing around with his mixing equipment, but he's okay. He misses you."

"He didn't invite me over," she sighed and her eyes began to water, "did he?"

Kurt shook his head and to his dismay, Rachel began to cry. It wasn't loud or hysterical, but tears rolled down her face, dragging mascara down with them. She sniffled and then wrinkled her nose in disgust, using the sleeve of shirt to dab at the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry," she choked and he reached across the couch to place his hand on her knee in comfort.

"It's okay, Rachel, " he insisted, but it did nothing to cheer her up. "Hey, I'm sorry I lied to you, but it's nothing to cry about. You two can fix this."

"I just want to talk to him," she gasped, clutching at her stomach and drawing her knees to her chest, "but I don't know what to say to him and I'm pretty sure he hates me."

"I don't think there's a single thing in this world Blaine could hate you for," Kurt whispered, pulling her into an awkward hug as she was still trying to curl up into a ball on his couch. This only seemed to make her cry harder and he just hadn't planned for this. Yelling, screaming, sarcasm, deflection, those he knew how to handle. Tears just made him panic, which was the only excuse he had for why he kept talking.

"I don't know what happened," he said in a rush, "and I know it's none of my business or you would have told me but you love each other. You're best friends. You just got in a bad fight at the wrong time with Jesse leaving, but neither of you have been apart longer than a few days in years. You need each other and I need you to be Blaine and Rachel again. I mean, if you two never make up and a few years down the line Blaine and I really do decided to have a child, who besides you would I trust to be a surrogate mother? It'll be a nightmare."

"Oh Kurt," she cried and her voice rose in a panic, cracking with nearly every word. "Kurt I can't do that! I'm so sorry. I can't do that!"

"Rachel, I'm not talking about right now!" Kurt gaped at her as she pulled away from him completely, eyes wild. She wrung her hands as she worried her lip; she looked absolutely manic.

"No, you don't understand, I physically can't do that," she repeated, her tears having progressed to full blown hysterics. "I can't, I can't. I'm so sorry and you know I would have loved to do that, but I can't."

"Rachel, what are you talking about?" he shouted at her if only that she might actually hear him past her anxiety attack.

"I'm pregnant," she screeched, burrowing her head into her arms, quivering as she tried to disappear into herself. Kurt sat in shock next to her. He pulled her into a tight hug and she seemed to collapse in his embrace. She was practically doubled over in his lap as she cried, but as much as he loved her, he felt completely unsure of what she wanted or needed from him. Blaine wouldn't have this problem, he knew, but she hadn't told Blaine, she had told him and only because he had accidentally pushed her into a corner. He wondered how long she had known, had carried this secret around with her. He wondered if Jesse knew. But mostly, he just kept going back to how he knew Blaine would know all the right things to say.

Kurt stayed with her, whispering little nothings in comfort, until her sobs subsided and she started to collect herself. She extracted herself from his arms and wiped at her face, grimacing as her eyeliner left charcoal streaks across the back of her hand. He could tell she was still shaken, and he couldn't blame her at all. She hadn't expected this or planned for it and in all the years that he'd known her, he couldn't recall a single time she ever spoke of wanting to have children. He assumed that if she did, it would be well after she had established herself on stage, as a leading lady, had a secure future and a husband. She would have never wanted it like this, just really starting out in the business, unmarried and carrying the child of a man who had left her in the dust.

"I'll help you," Kurt said confidently, rubbing her shoulder as she gave him a watery smile. "We'll figure out what you want to do and no matter what it is, you'll get through it and I'm going to be right there, okay?"

"It's just so..." she trailed off with a sad shake of her hair. "II just don't know, about any of it."

"It's going to work out," he insisted, offering her his hand as he stood up. She took it, her fingers trembling and he led her into the kitchen. "But first, you have to calm down. So make yourself some tea and try to relax."

"Where are you going?" she quizzed, her expression curious as he turned towards the hallway.

"I'll be right back," he promised and when she made no response, he took his leave, racing to the spare room and flinging the door open. Blaine looked up, startled. Kurt bolted towards the window seat, snagging the headphones from Blaine's ears and they fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

"What are you doing?" Blaine gawked, a hard edge to his voice. "Those were expensive."

"I know and I'm sorry," Kurt said, picking the headphones up and placing them on the seat before grabbing Blaine by the arm to pull him to his feet, "but I need your help. Rachel needs your help and I know that you two haven't been on the best of terms lately for whatever reason, but this is big and you can't just ignore her anymore, not now."

"I still have no idea what's going on," Blaine reminded him as allowed Kurt to steer him towards the door.

"Rachel's pregnant," Kurt revealed; the hand he had around Blaine's arms jerked and he stumbled backwards as Blaine froze in place. It was like he had frozen in time. The color had drained out of his face and his eyes widened past what Kurt would had ever thought possible. The effect was as if someone had covered him in whitewash and pinned him to a board the way some people captured butterflies. He seemed to gasp for air as his jaw fell and he choked on unspoken words. "Blaine?" Kurt whispered, squeezing his shoulder.

"I- she- are you sure?" he stammered, his hands curled into fists as he stared a Kurt.

"She just had a complete meltdown on our couch about it," Kurt explained. "I'm pretty sure."

"She's here?" and if it were possible, Blaine paled even more but it spurred him into action. He was out the door faster than Kurt could follow him. Blaine must have gone into the living room first because they actually made it to the kitchen at the same time. Rachel was leaning against the counter, a small cup in her hand suspended in midair as if she had meant to put it down but was interrupted by the two boys sudden appearance. She stared at Blaine, her eyes filling with tears almost instantly.

"Hi," she whispered and her gaze flickered down to her feet. Kurt saw a tear fall down the bridge of her nose, but Blaine didn't move even as he whispered a small "hi" in return.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked after a few quiet moments.

Rachel looked up at him and tried to smile, but it looked so broken on her that Kurt's heart ached for her. She eventually just shook her head side to side, her hair falling around her as she did and in that instant, Blaine moved forward and gathered her in his arms. He was the only thing that appeared to hold her up, her hands curling into his shirt, clutching at his chest. His hands smoothed through her hair. It was like the last piece of a puzzle, when everything seemed to click into place, and Kurt felt like an intruder. If it had been anyone else, he probably wouldn't have left them alone, but as Kurt quietly slipped out of the kitchen, he knew his part had been done. Rachel would be okay. Blaine wouldn't leave her to deal with this on her own. They might still have some things to work out between them, but Kurt knew without a doubt that they would hold onto each other the way they used to and this time, they might never left go.

-:-

_**BLAINE**_

"I'm here," he whispered into her hair. If he stopped to think about it, he might have wondered at how easily he had rushed to her side, his anger all but forgotten as soon as she looked at him with her dark eyes full of tears. It had melted away, barely leaving a scar, as he held onto her as tight as he could. His head was spinning with different thoughts though, an indescribable panic that made his heart race and his stomach clench. His fingers trembled in her hair, tangling the soft strands and a thousand questions screamed across his mind.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated again, the sound a murmur against his chest. "Blaine, please don't hate me anymore. I didn't mean it."

"Rach," he breathed, trying to focus on her right now instead of everything else. He moved his hands to her shoulders, forcing her back as he leaned down until he could stare into her eyes, "I never hated you."

"Yes you did," she insisted as she dropped her head.

"I was hurt," he amended, one finger lifting her chin back up, "and I was guilty and angry was too busy feeling sorry for myself to pay attention to anyone else, but I never once felt like I hated you, okay? You didn't do anything wrong."

"Don't lie to me," she cried softly. "I did everything wrong – with you, with Jesse, with how I felt – and now everything is falling apart. I'm going to lose everything."

"Listen to me," Blaine demanded and his voice must have been stronger than he actually felt, or maybe it was the little shake he had accidentally given her, but she seemed to snap back into herself. Her tears slowed and she looked at him expectantly. "This is not your fault. If it's anyone's, it's mine and you can let it be mine if that's what you need to do. So just do that; let it be my fault."

"That's not fair," she argued.

"I don't care," he replied resolutely. He waited for her to disagree with him again but she just continued to stare at him, searching him. He did his best to appear confident, to show her what she needed to see so that she could be herself again. Sure enough, he could see a little glimmer of the light that usually sparked behind her eyes, the ghost of a smile on her lips; her hands stopped shaking and she held her head a bit higher. "Better?" he asked with a slight chuckle, thought he still felt like he were on the verge of having a mild stroke.

"A little," she whispered, her hand wrapping around his that still rested on her shoulder, bring it down to hang between them. "It's not your fault either Blaine. I won't let you blame yourself either. We did this together, we're in this together."

A sour lump rose in his throat and try as he might, he couldn't make it go away. Now that Rachel was calmed, he didn't have anything to immediately distract him from his own emotional turmoil, but he knew he couldn't have a breakdown in the middle of his kitchen. There was no way he'd be able to explain it to Kurt; his heart lurched at the thought. "What are we going to do?" he questioned, no longer able to keep his voice steady for her sake.

"I don't know," Rachel whispered, squeezing his hand. "I didn't want to do anything without talking to you first."

"I guess," he sighed, still wavering, "we should do that."

They seemed to both make the decision at the same time, as she said she would go get her sweater from the hall closet and he replied that he had to go say goodbye to Kurt. They had been lucky, had always been so lucky, that Kurt had left the kitchen when he did and hadn't come back, but the things they had to talk about they couldn't risk him overhearing; and he was always so understanding, it was almost painful. He just nodded when Blaine told him he was taking Rachel home, asked if Blaine would spend the night, and kissed him goodbye without some much as another word.

He met Rachel at the door and they walked to the familiar path to the subway, They spent the ride in silence, sitting next to each other, but there there was a tension between them that forced them to sit as far apart as possible and still look like they were together. He looked over at her pressed against the window several times, but the words he might have said stuck in his throat, so overwhelming that he might have choked on them. Even when they took the stairs to her apartment and she unlocked the door to let them in, they remained quiet.

There was just so much to say.

"I wanted to tell you," Rachel finally said after several long minutes, during which she had settled herself on the floor next to her bed, knees drawn to her chest as she leaned against the metal frame. Blaine looked over at her from where he stood staring out the window, and he tried to pick out just one thing in response, but his words kept slipping away from him. She blinked at him, her eyes starting to take on that glassy look as if she might burst into tears again. "You're not talking."

"When-." he stammered, not even sure what was about to come out of his mouth, "when did you find out?" There, he thought, that was a good enough start. It was basic information, something he needed to know and it was a safe enough question that wouldn't make either of them cry, or run away again.

"I got my blood work back from the clinic a few days ago," she said, but didn't offer any more elaboration and he realized she probably felt the same way he did – with too much to tell with nowhere to start.

"How long have you thought you might be..."

"A few weeks."

His stomach flipped as he imagined her alone in her apartment, bent over the sink as she read the results of a home test. Maybe she took several of them, maybe she spent every five minutes staring at the little plastic contraption, begging it to be negative only to have it mock her and turn positive every time. She probably cried, reached for the phone half a dozen times to call him, but remembered how she thought he hated her. Alone, he realized, she had done it all alone. "You didn't say anything," he whispered and his heart hurt as she looked sadly away.

"I wanted to be sure," she said. "I knew how complicated this could be, if it were true, and there was no reason to put us both through that if it turned out to be nothing."

"You didn't have to do it alone," he said, though he knew it was futile. "And you're sure, right?" Rachel just stared at him from her spot on the floor and he immediately flushed red, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Sorry, it's just, you know, we need to be-."

"I'm sure," she answered.

"And it's- I- are you-," he groaned in frustration as he tripped over the words. It was the last thing he wanted to ask, but she was right: this was complicated. For the same reasons they had to leave Kurt behind and go back to Rachel's apartment to even have this conversation, he had to ask her this. "I'm going to sound like such a jackass but are you sure that it's... mine?"

"Yes," she snapped, her hair whipping around her as she glared at him. The conversation stilled again and he meant to apologize, but after a moment, her eyes softened and she looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry. You have every right to ask that question. But Blaine, there's no way this baby is anyone but yours. The doctor said I was ten weeks. I haven't been with Jesse since he started preparing his move to London. I barely saw him at all and by the time he left for good, we hadn't been intimate in over three months."

"Ten weeks," he repeated with a low whistle.

"Give or take," she tried to laugh, but it was utterly humorless as he sunk to the floor. He leaned against her wall, letting his head fall back to stare at the ceiling, his legs stretching out gracelessly in front of him. _Ten weeks, _he kept thinking, over and over on loop. Just over two months, and they had spent the entire time avoiding and ignoring each other, punishing each other for what he knew was just a misunderstanding when there was something so much more important just north of the horizon. They hadn't been there when they needed each other and now he felt like he was drowning in uncertainty.

He felt Rachel's small foot knock against his and he forced himself to look at her. She was crying again, her face lined with desperation. She seemed to be asking him what to do. He didn't know and his nails were biting into his skin where his hands had balled into fists next to him. Her features shifted into concern, her eyes worried as she gazed at him and he realized he was crying silent tears.

And when she spoke, it was the most broken thing he had ever heard in his life: "You're not talking again."

"Are we going to keep it?" he cringed, wondering why the only things he could thing of to say were the ones that seemed to hurt the most. He didn't want it to be this way, where she might look back and think he hadn't cared about her, but he truly just needed to know what to do. He needed her to know.

Instead she shrugged, picking at the skin around her nails. "There's really one two options for me," she sighed, "My mo- Shelby, she just gave me away. Don't get me wrong, I know that's what a surrogate is for, but I can't do that. I can't just have a baby and give it away; I'm too selfish. So my options are to either terminate the pregnancy, or to have this baby and raise it and both are terrifying."

"This whole thing is terrifying," he muttered. "If we keep the baby, I don't know how we're going to keep this," he gestured between them, "us from him. He has to know and I can't stand to have these secrets anymore."

"And even if you did," Rachel interrupted, "even if we never told him that you sired my child, one day when she grows up, she's going to ask who her father is and I don't think I could lie to her Blaine."

"You think it'll be a girl?" he implored, the corners of his lips lifting at the thought. Dark hair, silky and wavy like her mother's, her nose just as distinctive, and a smile that could light up the room. But her eyes would be his, pools of sweet amber, shining gold under the midday sun. Rachel would put her in dresses of lace or ribbon, and she would be a tiny little thing, just big enough to fit in his arms.

But he couldn't keep her, not the with the way things were. Not while he was with Kurt, who had done absolutely nothing to deserve this kind of betrayal from him, from Rachel. The fact that they hadn't done it maliciously would do little to ease the pain or the anger that would inevitably come out of it. The need to protect him, to keep this away from him, lay heavy on Blaine's heart and he felt a coward for it. That had been his excuse for years – his excuse for never telling him that he and Rachel had ever dated, had ever been more than friends, were still more than friends – and he knew it was to protect Kurt as much as himself. He was as much a part of this as Blaine and Rachel were, and he hadn't even asked for it.

Even if they could take Kurt out of the equation – which Blaine just couldn't seem to do – he and Rachel were unbelievably fucked on their own. Years of hiding real feelings behind thinly veiled friendship had made them into what they were now. Desperate and broken and unsure of where most of the pieces had gone missing, but still clinging onto each other. And he loved her, in every way he possibly could love her, more than he should, but they'd grown up enough to know that love doesn't negate doing the right thing. As for what the right thing was, he wasn't sure either of them knew anymore.

"The logical thing," she said as she avoided looking him in the eye, "who be to save ourselves all this trouble and just end this now."

"But?" he prompted.

"But we weren't talking," she looked sheepish as she spoke to the floor, "and somehow underneath all my panic and indecision, I felt like in some way I still had you as long as I had this. Which granted, you can probably attribute all of that to my changing hormones, but I'm somehow..."

She paused, her brow furrowed in concentration, but she had fallen into the same state he felt like he'd been ever since he held her in the kitchen as she cried. The words she wanted to say just weren't coming to her. "Attached?" he finally suggested. Her eyes flickered to his and he could see the truth, shimmering just under the surface and he had his resolution even before she nodded and the small "yes" formed on her lips.

"That's our answer then," he replied. "We're... keeping the baby."

"What do we do after that?" Rachel gulped.

"I have no idea."

-:-

Ironically, it was Kurt who had the plan. "She can't walk up ten flights of stairs pregnant," he explained to Blaine, "and the elevator hasn't worked in years. That apartment building is falling apart and frankly, with all the doctor bills and medication costs she's about to rack up, she can't afford to live by herself."

"You want her to live here?" Blaine repeated, glancing around their apartment as if Kurt hadn't spent the last ten minutes trying to convince him of that exact thing.

"It's either that or she moves back to Lima," he countered, and there was a brief flash of fear that ran through Blaine at the thought. "Who knows, she might even go with Jesse this time."

"I don't think she would do that," Blaine said adamantly, tugging on a curl of hair that had fallen over his ear, though he hadn't expected her to call Jesse with the news of being pregnant either. It was before she had talked to Blaine she said, but that didn't erase the bitter taste in his mouth that she had gone to Jesse first. But he didn't say anything; he hadn't exactly been available to her, and he couldn't fault her for running to the first person who would listen to her and make her feel a little less alone. Still, Blaine didn't have to like it and he especially didn't have to like the fact that Jesse was already back in town "visiting" and would probably do exactly as Kurt had suggested and try to whisk Rachel away with him to London.

Part of him thought it might be the best thing all around if she did go back with Jesse but most of him only carried a strange refusal to even let her think about it. Call it being protective, or somewhat possessive, but there was so much more involved than just Rachel now. She was a part of Blaine's future, one way or another, and there was no way in hell he was ready to let her jet halfway across the world, no matter how they had managed to screw things up so far. This was one mistake he wasn't willing to sit back and let happen.

"I don't think even Rachel knows what she might do," Kurt said as he flounced down on the couch next to Blaine and it took everything in Blaine not to flinch away from him out of sheer guilt. "At least Jesse is stepping up though, I wouldn't have expected it of him. Maybe she should go with him."

"Why?" Blaine nearly growled. "So they can bicker and fight on another continent instead? I think she's under enough stress as it is."

"They didn't always fight," Kurt said gently.

"Sure seems like it," Blaine scoffed, his mood getting progressively worse.

"They fought a lot around you," Kurt shrugged, laying his head on Blaine's shoulder as he talked. "She said once, way back in high school when she first met Jesse, that she didn't think they were true love, but maybe they could be. Maybe she was right after all. I don't think people can go though as much as they have without sharing some kind of love between them."

"You think they've gone through a lot?" he responded, more to himself than to his boyfriend. He knew Kurt had meant it in relation to Rachel and Jesse, but he couldn't help applying it to himself. He remembered when he first met her, she had just been Kurt's friend and he didn't lay awake at night thinking about her. He would have never guessed that she would have become a good friend, that he would be the one she started to turn to when she had problems with Finn, or that she would be the one to keep his secrets. His first summer in New York, the one they spent together, falling into each other deeper than either had ever anticipated. That had been the start of it all, really, but they never bothered to finish it. They told themselves that they did, that there were other people, but the kept finding reasons to come back to each other, through everything.

"They're having a baby together," Kurt said, "and I'd like to think that counts for something."

Blaine shifted in his seat until Kurt was forced to pull away from him. Blaine turned on the couch to face him, reaching out until his hands could grasp onto Kurt's. He gulped once, a hard swallow and said, "I have to tell you something."

A knock on the door kept him from going any further. Kurt jumped up almost instantly to answer it while Blaine sunk into the couch, picking at the loose threads in the fabric and praying he wouldn't lose his nerve before Kurt got back. He needed to tell him everything; it was so long over due it almost made him sick. He heard the door close and waited for Kurt to come back, practicing all the different ways he could say "Jesse's not the father, I am" without sounding like a prick, but every variation came off worse than the last.

"So," Kurt said uncomfortably as he hovered around the entrance to the living room, "Jesse is here."

Blaine could have fallen off the couch. "Here?" he nearly shouted. "Right now?"

"He's outside," Kurt said with a hard shrug. "He won't come in, but he wants to talk to you."

With a sigh, he headed towards the front door, both hands at the back of his neck as if some kind of makeshift shield. Kurt didn't bother to follow him, just closed the door behind him with a soft click, leaving Blaine alone in the community hallway with Jesse, who looked about as pleased to be there as Blaine could have expected him to. It wasn't openly hostile, but the set in his shoulders told Blaine that if Rachel hadn't outright told him what happened, he had put the pieces together on his own and even if they weren't really anymore, he and Jesse had once been friends and being reminded of that only made Blaine feel worse about the situation.

"So how long did you wait?" Jesse started them off, uncrossing his arms and pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning on. "Was it even a day, an hour, four minutes after I left that you fell into bed with her?"

"It wasn't like that," Blaine whispered, unable to force any kind of conviction into his voice.

"It never is with you two," Jesse said angrily, "but it always happens anyway. And you always make excuses for it. 'It wasn't like that', 'we're just friends', 'there's nothing going on' and do you have any idea how vindicated I feel right now, and how furious that makes me? You were supposed to prove me wrong Blaine, not show me how absolutely right I was about everything."

"Are you mad at me or Rachel?" Blaine snapped and as Jesse rolled his eyes, another possibility dawned on him. "Or are you mad at yourself?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Jesse insisted, his voice still full of spite. "You've both effectively cut me out. Good job."

"Yes, I'm an asshole, we're agreed," Blaine sighed wearily, turning back towards this apartment. "Can I go now? I was trying to talk to Kurt."

"Whatever you have to say to Kurt can wait," Jesse demanded, placing his body between Blaine and the door handle. "I came all the way from London to yell at you, you better damn well listen to me Anderson."

"It can't wait actually," Blaine hissed through his locked jaw, "because I'm trying to _talk _to him, Jesse and it's about five years too late as it is."

"And you talked to Rachel about this?" Jesse asked, his condescending smirk told Blaine he already knew the answer. "Do you know what she said to me when she called to tell me she was pregnant? She apologized to me, said she knew it was unfair, but she didn't feel like she could go to you. She felt like she lost you and now you want to take Kurt away from her too?"

"She could have come to me," Blaine insisted, glaring at Jesse though it seemed to have little effect on him. "I would have been there for her, but she avoided me as much as I avoided her. And I'm here now, and I'll be here from now on, but don't you think Kurt has a right to know?"

"He absolutely has a right to know," Jesse agreed, which was slightly unnerving but he didn't give Blaine enough time to consider it, "and you need to make sure that you're the one to tell him, but not now. Talk to Rachel first, find out what she wants, and give it to her. Save your guilt and self-loathing for another day."

"It's just going to make things worse in the long run," Blaine argued meekly.

"You're already in the long run. Now come on," Jesse replied, bunching his fist into the fabric of Blaine's shirt and began to pull him in the direction of the elevator. "I can't even look at you without a beer and you're buying me one."

-:-

_**JESSE**_

London had ended up being everything Jesse needed. He noticed it the first time he traveled there from New York, when he still believed he and Rachel were moving there together and the longer he stayed there, the more clear his head would become. He could see, really see for the first time, how much he had settled for New York. He'd wanted Broadway, stardom, fame, and he let himself hide away in a little brick studio teaching bratty kids how to do pliés and pirouettes. He had lowered his standards to fit into what the world offered him instead of demanding it give him what he deserved. And in the process, all the anger and resentment he secretly harbored, he used against the only good things he did have.

Rachel would have followed him to the ends of the earth if he hadn't tried so hard to push her off the edge. It was the very definition of a self-fulfilling prophecy, one he let drive him nearly insane when he thought about Rachel and Blaine together, but he couldn't see himself being with Rachel while he felt like she was still wrapped up in Blaine; and she would be for the rest of her life, which was something he just hadn't been able to accept. It cost him a potential friend, and in the end it cost him her.

Which was why he left her behind. She wouldn't come after him and he didn't want her too. But when she called and told him she was pregnant, he couldn't stop himself from rushing back to her. There was no question in his mind what had happened. He knew the baby wasn't his. He knew it wasn't his responsibility and that the only reason she told him was because she was freaking out and they had been together for such a long time, it was instinct to reach out to him, especially when she wasn't speaking to Blaine.

By the time he made it back to New York and found her in her apartment, she had managed to find her way back to Blaine, to Jesse's great annoyance and was expressly told that he wasn't allowed to punch Blaine in the face and that this situation was as much her fault as it was was. Probably more so, she reckoned, though Jesse at least got her to agree to never say that again. He didn't believe her whens he said she was okay, but she wasn't crying and he did sound better in person than she had over the phone; and he other places to be anyway.

As he dragged Blaine out of his apartment and to Marco's bar, he realized he wasn't as angry as he thought he was. He had seen this coming a thousand miles away – had even said so to Rachel many times – but someone had to play the part for Rachel's sake. Someone had to yell at him, to make him feel worse than he already did, to make sure he would take care of her and before Jesse went back to London to live his life, he needed to know without a doubt that Rachel would be okay.

"Hey Blaine," Marco greeted them as they entered the bar. "You drinking tonight?"

"No, I am," Jesse remarked, settling Blaine into a stool next to the wall so he couldn't escape. He fished Blaine's wallet out of his pocket and threw it on the counter. "He's paying though."

Marco eyed the wallet, his eyes flickering from Blaine to Jesse before he finally settled on Jesse and said, "Didn't you leave?" Blaine snorted with laughter as Jesse glared at Marco and demanded whatever the most expensive beer on tap was. "What are we drinking to?" Marco asked, slinging two drinks across the counter.

"Oh this is a big occasion," Jesse said with false exuberance, taking a swig of his beer before continuing. "Blaine here got our little Rachel pregnant."

Blaine coughed up his beer, sputtering an incomprehensible mess of words even if Jesse had been paying attention. He flushed a deep red, gaping at Jesse, but Marco barely blinked. "I'm not touching that one," he chuckled, "except to say I could have seen it one coming."

"Me too," Jesse agreed, tossing a rag at Blaine, "though a four second warning kind of narrowed my betting window."

"I called it years ago," Marco shrugged and walked off, leaving Jesse and Blaine alone. Jesse leaned against the counter as Blaine wiped it off. He watched him, running through the motions he was so used to, night after night of cleaning the bar and slinging drinks. There was a slight smile on his face as he did this, as if he were trying to hide it from Jesse, but he could still see it. It wasn't even a smile like the ones he used to throw at Jesse, like he'd won something over from him, but it was simple and unassuming and that spoke volumes more than any words Blaine might ever say.

"He always liked you best," Jesse sighed, sitting down and gesturing for Blaine to do the same.

"Jesse," Blaine said, that same tiredness from earlier back in his voice as he slumped in his seat, "you didn't drag me all the over her to talk about Marco. Just tell me what you want."

"What I want," Jesse repeated. "That's a loaded question. We could talk all night about the things I want, or rather, the ones I wanted. But for now, how about we talk about what I expect from you."

"Fine, I'll play," Blaine sighed.

"It's not a joke," Jesse said very seriously. "I expect you to be there for her. I expect you to fulfill every promise you ever made her, spoken or otherwise. You know what they are and she knows it. That's the problem with the two of you. You're both so in sync with each other, there are no secrets. It breaks you. But you're done with that now, all right? You and Rachel are going to see this thing through. You never get to leave her again."

"Did she tell you that I told her I loved her?" Blaine questioned, his eyes sparking with something Jesse couldn't quite make out. "I've never said that to her before. She didn't say it back."

"You know she does," Jesse rolled his eyes.

"That's the problem right?" Blaine grinned wryly, finishing off his drink with a big gulp.

"It's the only thing you two have ever done right," Jesse admitted, locking his own hurt feelings up just long enough to get through this with Blaine. "You love. After everything, you still love. It's kind of sickening, if I'm honest with you, but there it is."

"Why do I feel like you hate me for that?"

"Because I do," Jesse shook his head, tossing his own beer back. "Not in the way you think. I hate that I wasn't you, that no matter what I did, I just wasn't... don't make me explain it. I can't. Just promise me you'll stay with her this time. I know you have your thing to work out with Kurt, but I can't leave without knowing that she's going to taken care of."

"Jesse, I-." Blaine started but Jesse cut him off with a glare and said, "if you give me some shit about how you've always been there, I will hit you."

Blaine looked at him, his gaze steady as he stood up from his stool and walked over to where Jesse was standing. He leaned over on the bar, his hands clasped in front of him and very softly, he asked one more question. "If it were you, what would you do?"

Jesse didn't even hesitate before answering. "If she'd have me, I'd leave everything behind just to be the one at her side. But she doesn't want me Blaine, she wants you."

"She has me."

"Good. I'm holding you to it."

-:-

_**RACHEL**_

Saying goodbye to Jesse was harder than she expected it to be, maybe because they'd never really had to say goodbye, not really. Even as far back as high school, whenever they had to break up, there was a lot of crying and yelling, accusations and hurtful words. Later came apologies and heavy-handed compliments under the guise of friendship, and they would start all over. Not once though could Rachel remember ever saying the words "goodbye Jesse St. James" while knowing that it was entirely possible she would never see him again.

"Thanks for letting me stay at your place," Jesse said as they loitered around the airport security check point, a backpack slung casually over his shoulder. "It's ironic how you never wanted to live with me, but when I need a place to stay for a week, your couch is suddenly free."

"You stayed over plenty of times before," Rachel said with a shrug, worrying her bottom lip absentmindedly. "I still think you're leaving early so you don't have to help me move into Kurt's apartment."

"Which I should put on record saying that's a bad idea," he interjected.

"I know you do," Rachel smiled reassuringly at him, "and I'm sure one day you'll get to bathe in the grim satisfaction that you were right, but you know how hard it can be to say no to Kurt."

"I know how hard it is for you to say no to Blaine," he corrected her. "It was after all, kind of the whole reason our relationship imploded."

"Oh Jesse," she said with a sigh, running her hands over her stomach, which was apparently her new nervous habit now that she was pregnant. She couldn't seem to stop herself most times, and it was frankly ridiculous considering nothing even felt differently yet. "I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry."

"I'm not blaming you," Jesse insisted, his eyes flooded with sincerity. "I should blame you but I don't. I saw it coming and I tried to convince myself that I would be okay with it, but I wasn't. I'm still not, but I think," he paused, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers brushing the apple of her cheek, "you're someone I want to keep around."

"Well, what we had wasn't so bad, right?" she whispered. "We had good times."

"We had great times," Jesse agreed. "They just got stuck in some kind of Blaine Anderson induced limbo sometimes."

"You talk about him more than I do," Rachel laughed.

"Well you don't exactly talk about him at all," he said as be became suddenly serious. "You know you need to work things out with him, one way or another, and whatever comes out it, that needs to be it Rachel. Whether you break each other's hearts or ride off into the not so proverbial sunset, just let it be what it really is, once and for all."

"It's complicated Jesse," she reminded him. "and it's been so many years since we even functioned like normal people around each other, and I just don't know how to get back to that. Plus with all my hormonal changes, I spend half of my day crying and the other half incredibly sexually frustrated and Blaine is really only in a position to handle one of those sides of me right now."

"Please tell me you're not taking your carnal urges out on Hummel," Jesse chortled as Rachel punched him half-heartedly on the arm.

"You know what I meant Jesse St. James," she chuckled despite herself, but quickly found her eyes filling with tears as they lapsed into silence, the airport calling him back to London no matter how long they stood around bantering. She blinked, trying desperately to clear her vision and see him one last time, but the only thing that happened was to force a myriad of tears to fall down her cheeks as she choked, "I'm going to miss you so much."

"You weren't kidding when you said you cry a lot," Jesse smirked, before he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. "Don't do that for me," he whispered as she sniffled into his shirt. "You're going to be okay Rachel; I promise and if you're ever not then you can always run back to me."

"You won't slam the door in my face?" she asked in a tiny voice. "After all I put you through?"

"Never," Jesse replied, rubbing slow circles into her back.

"You're a good friend Jesse," she smiled and withdrew herself from his grasp, "and a much better one than I deserve."

"You deserve everything," he said kindly, brushing the last of her tears away with his thumb. "You're Rachel Berry and no matter how mad I might be at you, or how hurt, I'll always love you and I'll always be around for you."

The security line had dwindled down to nothing and they both seemed to realize that is was time for Jesse to leave, but that didn't stop Rachel from throwing herself into his arms once more. Just to remember him, she told herself, to erase her last memory of him walking out on her and replace it with this one, where she felt at peace with the way things had happened between them, where he was happy and setting off to live the life he was always meant for. She would be able to look back and say they had parted as friends.

"You're going to miss your plane," she said as she let go of him. "Go. Call me when you get back."

Jesse just nodded and turned to weave through the maze that lead him to the metal detectors. She watched him sort his belongings, kick off his boots and struggled to put them back on the other side until finally, with a flip of his hair that was getting a little too long, he turned to wave at her. She waved until he rounded the corner and that was it; Jesse was gone and while it wasn't as painful as it had been the last time, her heart still dropped cold and heavy to her stomach. It was like watching a piece of her life fall away from her, even if she knew it was time to let him move on. He deserved it and it would be selfish of her to hold him back anymore.

Not that Rachel didn't believe she was selfish enough to do it. She was, after all, moving in with Kurt knowing that it was Blaine's child she carried, knowing that when he found out – and he would, it was only a matter of time – it would shatter him. It was the biggest betrayal she could think of and yet, she couldn't bring herself to stop from doing it. She supposed it was just her insecurity coming out in her. Blaine had promised to be there for her and she didn't believe he would lie to her, but if there was one constancy in their past together, it was that too often, they let things come between what they said and what they would actually do.

She needed him, more than she needed Kurt or needed Jesse. It had always been that way, but even more so since she'd found out she was pregnant. Once the initial shock of staring blanking at thirteen positive tests had worn off, her primal instinct had been to call Blaine. To cry to him, yell at him, demand him to fix it, to say anything as long as she could hear his voice and feel him in her life again. But she hadn't, because he was still avoiding her and she was still ignoring him and neither of them knew how to make it better.

She tried to convince herself she could do this without him, that he would never have to know, but she'd fallen apart on her first visit to the doctor. All they had done was take her blood to confirm what she already knew was true, and she had been in such a state of hysterics by the end of it, the nurses hadn't wanted to let her leave on her own. But who could she call? Her dads would only overreact and make matters worse, and Kurt was out for obvious reasons. Somehow that meant she was waking Jesse up in the middle of the night and he calmed her down enough to go home safely, but as much as she appreciated Jesse's serene handling of things, she missed Blaine's off-handed humor and his disbelieving wide-eyed stare. They were both strange things to miss while she was panicking, but they were as familiar to her as the sound of her own voice.

They were still a mess, climbing inside an even bigger mess in the making, but there was a hesitant sense of relief to it all now, knowing that Blaine was in it with her. There were still so many things to say, maybe things that should have rightly been said years ago, but even then, she felt like they were somehow heading in the right direction at the worst possible time and as selfish as that made her, nothing else really mattered.

-:-

That only lasted so long, she discovered as Blaine brought her last box into her new room in Kurt's apartment – she couldn't think of it as hers or think of it as Blaine's without thinking of it as _theirs. _She was officially moved in, and all she wanted to do was run and hide, surround herself with sunrise colored walls and a familiar space that had a rickety fire escape up to the roof. Not this room of periwinkle paint and a window the size of a cat door with Blaine and Kurt's shared room a straight shot down the hall. It was just too close, too easy to be found out, too simple to fall apart and ruin everything she had left going for her.

"I can- can't do th-this," she stuttered, wrapping her arms tightly around her stomach and began rocking back and forth on the edge of the unfamiliar bed Kurt had made up for her as she had been forced to leave her own behind. "Why did I think this was a good idea? Why did I think I could do any of this?"

"Calm down," Blaine said immediately, his hands running soothingly through her hair as he came to sit next to her. She just shook her head, her fingers knotting into the blanket. "You can't do anything if you don't calm down."

"And then what?" she hissed at him, instantly regretful when she saw the hurt flash through his eyes and folded his hands in his lap.

"What we talked about," he responded, his voice even but otherwise flat and emotionless. "You do exactly what you wanted to do. I won't tell Kurt, even though we both agree that he deserves to know, and we'll go through the next eight months as they come to us."

"You make it sound like I forced you into this," she sighed heavily, sneaking a glance over at him and was surprised to find him doing the same. She didn't try to hide the small giggle that escaped her, just reached for his hand and took it into her and just like that, she felt like she had snapped back into place.

"Of course you didn't," he said, his voice kind once more. "I know this isn't an ideal situation, and there are some things I wish we could do differently but I understand why you want to do things the way we are. You'll get through this Rach. I have no doubt."

"You know I want to tell Kurt too," Rachel replied, giving his hand a quick squeeze. "I want him to know that we didn't do this to hurt him and that it was only a one time incident, but it's just better right now if he believes this is Jesse's baby."

"It's just going to hurt more in the end," Blaine argued. "Why am I doing this to him? You he would probably forgive, but I'm going to lose him Rachel. I'm going to lose him and never get him back."

"I know it's not perfect!" she nearly shouted, jumping out her skin when Blaine shushed and reminded her that Kurt was only just in the kitchen ordering dinner. "Besides, you don't know that he wouldn't pick you over me, if it really came down to a choice. But I need him right now, okay? I'm basically using him and I know that, but he's the best friend I have next to you and you only manage to complicate things even more."

"I complicate things?" Blaine scoffed. "You're the one with all these elaborate schemes and I just go along with them."

"Well ask yourself how it would be any different if you went up to him now and said 'oh by the way, Rachel's baby, yeah that's mine and I just thought you needed to know'' because I don't know about you, but I see that going very badly," Rachel insisted, her having waving wildly through the air as she talked. "What would you do then? Move out? Leave me again?"

"Leave you?" he choked. "When did I ever leave you? You snuck out in the middle of the night and avoided me for a week, then got upset when I didn't want to talk after that. And before that, years ago, you were the one to break up with me. I never left you Rachel so let's not rewrite history."

"Then don't you act like it was all a one-sided thing," she huffed.

"I know it wasn't," he groaned, falling back on the bed with his hands over his face. "I know I fucked up too, but seriously Rachel, this is a mistake. And I understand all your reasons for wanting it this way and we both know I'm too much of a coward to do this on my own, so I'll wait. It's going to hurt like hell, but at this point, what else am I good for?"

"Blaine," she sucked in a breath, unsure of what she could say, "I didn't mean it like that."

"It's fine," he uttered, the words muffled against his skin.

"Why do guys say that when it's clearly not?" Rachel sighed, more to herself than to Blaine, but he answered with a dry laugh all the same.

"It's what we say when there's nothing else to say."

"It's a blatant lie," she reprimanded.

"Yeah well," he said as he sat up, a lazy grin across his face though he was clearly still irritated, "we're both used to those, aren't we?"

"Are you going to be mad at me the whole time I'm living here?" she whispered, staring at her hands.

Blaine didn't say anything for a moment, but instead chose to gather her into his arms and pull her onto his lap. She settled her head into the crook of his neck, the feel of his soft skin against her cheek bathing her in a calming warmth. His hands locked around her hip, study and sure to the touch and she could have been tied to him and felt less secure than she did now. "I'm not mad at you," he said so quietly she could have imagined it. "I'm tired and there are a million things I wish I had done differently. I wish I had never fallen back in love with Kurt, or forced myself to forget the feelings I had for you. I wish we had been honest with everyone from the beginning so that if this was the way things were meant to happen, less people would have been hurt. But none of that means I'm angry with you. It just means I don't know what to do."

"I don't either," she admitted, allowing herself to curl her fingers just under the collar of his shirt, her nails feather light as she traced a series of random shapes into his skin. She had meant it in comfort, but she felt him shudder underneath her. A heat rose in her, familiar and frightening at the same time because she suddenly wanted nothing more than to lay him back down and make him quake all around her. But she couldn't, especially not like this so she forced herself to stop and concentrate on her words until the moment passed her by. "I'm just making this up as I go along. There are no good options any more, just bad ones and worse ones. But I'm glad you're here with me. It makes it feel easier, even if it really isn't."

"It's beyond screwed up," he laughed, hugging her closer to him, "but I know you'll be in my corner when things go south, and I'll be in yours. The rest we'll just have to wait and see where it ends up."

She could have asked him where he thought they would end up, but she wasn't even sure what kind of answer she wanted for herself. If she closed her eyes and envisioned her future, she could see him and she could see their baby, but she still saw Kurt, she still saw Jesse. She had all these individual pieces and didn't know where they were supposed to fit or what it was supposed to look like at the end of the day. She knew she wanted all of it, but she also knew there was no way she could hang onto everything. She had to give something up, but was so far unwilling to do so.

"Are you okay now?'" Blaine asked. She looked up at him, a bit startled to find him so close to her, but didn't bother to pull back as he continued to whisper in her ear. "Do you need to yell at me some more?"

"No," she replied, the sound low in her throat and husky as it came out. "I'm okay."

His lips grazed against her cheek, lingering just long enough that her body seemed to take it as an invitation. Or maybe it was just her, but as she so often did, she fell into as easily as breathing, turning her lips up to meet his, capturing his mouth under hers. It had the potential to be slow and building, to explode and shatter the stars above them, but she forced it back, keeping it soft and as in control as possible and only when she didn't think she could hold herself back anymore, she released him. He rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed and she followed suit, content to immerse herself with him until Kurt called them in for dinner.

So much had happened, she thought, but very little had changed; even after all their time, these moments they could have while hidden and stolen, then kept under lock and key, she lived for them.

* * *

><p><em>I write, you read, you review, I write more. I mean, I will anyway, but it'd still nice to hear from you all after so long. <em>


	10. Chapter Ten

_Disclaimer: I do not own Glee._

* * *

><p><em><strong>RACHEL<br>**_It wasn't hard to notice that Kurt and Blaine, for all their outward appearances, had problems behind closed doors and there was no way to hide them from Rachel now that she lived with them. They were hardly ever home at the same time – Kurt spending long days with his theater troupe while still going to the occasional stage audition and Blaine stretching himself too thin between his Masters' studies, tending at Marco's bar, and mixing music for any friend that asked him to – and when they were home together, they could be found bickering more often than they got along. Rachel briefly wondered if it was because of her and the secret she shared with Blaine, that it might be affecting him more than he let on, but the more she observed, the more she realized their arguments were too old to have anything to do with her now constant presence.

Most of their fights weren't much about anything, just whatever there was to argue about at any given time. They would later be forgotten, usually by the time they went to bed, but Rachel could put money down on the fact that at least once a week, she would find Blaine asleep in the couch curled under a thread-bare blanket. On those days, Rachel would make breakfast as quietly as she could and just as he was waking up to the smell of bacon, she would join him in the living room and watch early morning cartoons while she munched on her toast and he stewed in silence over the colossal mess that was their lives.

No matter what Blaine told her, she knew it was mostly her fault; retrospect told her that. He might have made his fair share of manipulations, but if she traced it back to the beginning, it had been her idea to keep things casual. Even after she started developing closer feelings, she made herself believe the most important thing was making sure they didn't go too deep and in effect, she pushed Blaine away and into Kurt's arms. She had told him to work things out with Kurt, to give it another shot and she never really asked him to do the same for her and she slipped away from Blaine until it was easier to pretend she never felt anything real for him. That, more than anything, hurt them more than any of the secrets ever had.

Still, she hated that those secrets had to hurt other people and it was this fear of doing so that held her back. Every time Kurt walked by without saying something to her, even if it was just because he was late to work or late coming home, she imagined it would be like that once Blaine broke down and told him what they did. He would soon, she knew, and she knew it was something that needed to happen, but she just didn't want to lose Kurt. It was a simple and as selfish as that, just like he had been in high school when she wanted so much to have a friend. Kurt had become that for her, almost against his will, and it was hard to let go of that.

Not that remaining his friend wasn't killing her with guilt as well; she felt like she lied to him a little more each day every time he smiled at her or made her laugh. Even more so whenever he asked about Jesse, whom she let Kurt believe fathered her child. It was the easiest solution after all, though it vilified Jesse even more in Kurt's eyes, which she regretted. She wasn't sure that he truly believed her when she told him she had asked Jesse not to be involved with raising the baby, nor that Jesse has actually agree to it, but Kurt at least seemed to accept it for her sake.

Life had almost reached a kind of stalemate for her over the past couple of months. She couldn't take back what had happened – and truthfully, she never would want to – but she couldn't move forward either. Summer passed her by and even as she started her fourth month of pregnancy, nothing seemed to change. She was still stuck between Kurt and Blaine, between Blaine and her heart, between her heart and her head and she was at a loss for how to make it all come together. The only thing she knew for certain was that this time, it wouldn't just work itself out.

It never really had anyway.

So she just tried to pour herself into the one thing she could always count on: performing. She was still only an understudy and so far had only a few bit parts on stage while the rest of the main _Mamma Mia _cast went on every night , but that didn't stop her from putting everything she had into rehearsals. It was the one place that still made sense to her and she wasn't going to let anything – not her awkward living situation, the fights between Kurt and Blaine, the unresolved _everything _between her and Blaine – take her stage away from her.

Which was exactly why she hadn't told anyone from her company that she was pregnant; she knew they would have to know eventually, but she also knew as soon as they did, they would ask her to temporarily retire her role and everyone knew that was simply code for being recast. She just wanted one night before she had to give it up, one night where she was a star on Broadway before she resigned herself to lurking in the background for the rest of her life. Logically, she knew should would work after she gave birth, but a voice she couldn't quite in her head told her this was her last shot.

Rehearsals weren't exactly harder, but she did get find herself longing for a break, or drinking more water than she previously might have. Everything else seemed normal to her. She could sing, she could dance, she could run one from one length of the stage to the other without falling on her face and the doctor had said as long as she felt fine and rested when she didn't, there was no reason she had to stop working right away. So she did and managed to keep herself together pretty well.

And then it happened, right in the middle of the big dance she was practicing with the other understudy, an excruciating pain shot through her lower abdomen, fast as lightening and she broke mid term, nearly doubling over from the sensation. It went away as quickly as it came. Her hand came to rest on her still mostly flat stomach as if to settle it. This wasn't like anything she was used to, nothing like the flu or even cramps; no this was something specific.

"Are you okay?" her dance partner Dillon whispered and only then was she aware that several other members of the company had stopped to look at her, concerned and curious at the same time.

"I'm fine," Rachel said with a smile much to wide, holding her hand out for Dillon to start their dance over. "It was just a weird turn."

They barely got through the first sixteen bars before it flared up again, this time making her gasp out loud, her eyes screwing shut as she bit her lip. Both hands clutched tightly at her stomach as if that might make it go away. She could vaguely head Dillon call her name, but she couldn't find the breath to respond. Instead she shook her head, slowing falling to her knees until she could sit on the stage before her legs gave out from under her. A cold sweat beaded at her neck. Her fingers seemed to shake and just when she thought she might actually throw up, the pain subsided once again.

"I think I need to sit down," she whispered.

"You are sitting down," Dillon answered, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. "What's wrong, songbird?"

She tried to smile at the nickname Dillon had given her over a year ago, but it wouldn't come. "I need to go," she said softly, leaning back onto his shoulder, "to a clinic or something."

"There's the university hospital by Rockefeller," he suggested, rubbing circles into her back. She just nodded and let him help her up from the floor and down the stage stairs, her director wishing her well before she walked out of the theater, panicking only slightly that this might be for the last time before another wave of pain washed over her. Dillon found her a cab fairly quickly, a miracle in and of itself, and rode with her to Rockefeller even though she insisted he didn't have to come.

It wasn't until she was sitting in the waiting room that it occurred to her to call Blaine, but almost as soon as she had that thought, a nurse was wheeling her to an exam room and hooking her up to several machines, including a heavy belt that wrapped around her midsection. Dillon, who was never the brightest though certainly the sweetest, nearly passed out himself when Rachel had to explain that it was so they could monitor the baby's heartbeat; and that was the end of her secret.

"Dillon?" she pleaded, his eyes wider than tea plates. "I need you to call Blaine for me please."

"Baby?" he ignored her request, seemingly stuck on that one word.

"Baby," she repeated with a nod. "Can you please call Blaine? We left my phone at rehearsal."

"But like a real baby?"

It took much longer than Rachel would have liked to get Dillon to snap back to his senses, which he seemed to do as another pain passed through her side. He fumbled for his phone and let Rachel punch in Blaine's number, but she couldn't speak to him herself as a doctor had come through to ask her some more basic questions and prod at her stomach. His brow furrowed slightly when he came to what she thought was the source of her pain, muttering something about her kidney before he asked if she could go ahead and lay down on the bed, adding that he would be back shortly with a nurse to do an ultrasound.

"Shortly" turned out to be over half an hour, which seemed much longer as she spent half of her time avoiding Dillon's questions and the other half trying not to cry from the pain. The doctor's need for an ultrasound frightened her and she wondered just how badly she had hurt her baby by being selfish enough to push herself around all day long and not expect it to have consequences. Maybe this was her punishment for being so fucked-up, for stringing everyone along for her own needs and this was the universe's way of giving her hell back; all of a sudden, she wanted to cry for an entirely different reason.

She needed Blaine, and that was all she could think. When he finally burst through the door in a flying rush of flying limbs and panicked eyes, she broke down into hysterics, falling into his arms as he gathered her up and set her in his lap on the bed.

"I'm so sorry" he spoke quickly, his words coming in short spurts as he tried to catch his breath. "There was an accident and the cab had to take a detour, but then we got in traffic and I just got out and ran the last ten blocks. Are you okay? Has anyone been in to see you yet? What's happening?"

"I don't know," she sniffled into his simple white shirt that was already saturated in tear spots. "It just really hurts and they want to do an ultrasound and what if something bad has happened?"

"Nothing bad will happen," he insisted, holding her tighter to his chest. "It's going to be fine."

They sat in silence for another thirty minutes until Dillon came back in the room with a handful of snacks from a vending machine and a large cup of coffee for Blaine, followed by a the same doctor from before and a nurse wheeling an ultrasound machine into her room. She didn't want to let go of Blaine, but they assured her he could stay while she lay back down, so she settled for holding his hand as they set up the machine. When they were ready, she pulled her shirt up and Blaine kissed her knuckles while the nurse spread the cold gel around on her stomach.

She couldn't see much on the screen, only a few grainy black and white lumps spread here and there, but the medical team seemed to know what they were looking for as the started on the side she had no pain in and made careful notes before positioning the wand right over where all her discomfort was coming from. Her grip on Blaine's hand tightened and a scowling frown appeared on his face. She held her breath, almost expecting something grotesque and horrible to appear in the tiny monitor, but nothing like that happened. Instead the doctor just make a clicking noise with his tongue, marked a few columns on his charts and nodded to the nurse who removed the pressure from Rachel's stomach.

"Well the good news is there are no evidence of kidney stones, which was my first suspicion," the doctor said in a soothing voice, "but your kidney is slightly inflamed. I think you may have a kidney infection, which I want you to know is not uncommon in pregnant women. I need to run a few more tests – blood work, things like that – but if it is a kidney infection, we can treat it with antibiotics fairly easily, though the next few days may continue to be uncomfortable."

"Nothing's wrong with the baby, right?" Blaine asked as Rachel went rigid.

"Nothing at all," the doctor smiled and Rachel sagged in relief. "Would you like to see?"

Her heart fluttered, but she managed to nod weakly. The nurse turned the machine back on and placed the wand back on her stomach moving it slowly in search of her child. She passed just below her navel and Blaine sucked in a breath next to her. One second, all Rachel could see was the same black and white grain and the next, the delicate curve of a spine, a slightly enlarged head, but two hands with fingers and two feet with toes and a tiny flickering in the middle of the screen.

"That's the heart," the nurse said knowingly as she moved slowly across the image, pointing out all the little things Rachel hadn't been able to see when she had her first and, until then, only ultrasound as she was trying to determine if she were truly pregnant. It was overwhelming in a way she never expected, a surge or pride and love taking her over. The pain in her side was forgotten as turned to look at Blaine with a true smile on her face. She watched him gaze in amazement at the monitor and it was a struggle for him to pull his eyes away to look at her, but when he did, he was smiling with the barest hint of tears in his eyes.

"Would you like to know the sex?" the nurse asked. "That is if you don't know already."

"Can we?" she asked Blaine, squeezing his hand as tightly as she could.

"Do you want to?" he whispered, leaning in closer to her and wrapping their clasped hands in his free one.

"If you want to," she whispered back, resting her forehead on his shoulder.

"We would-." Blaine gulped, a nervous tremble to his voice, "yes, we would like to know."

"It's a perfectly healthy baby girl."

The world fell away from them as Rachel collapsed into a fit of giggles and Blaine's face fell into the silliest grin she had ever seen. Suddenly it didn't matter so much that she would have to give up being an understudy on Broadway, or that she still felt grossly unprepared to have a baby, or that she couldn't even tell anyone who the father truly was. She was having a little girl; her little girl, Blaine's little girl, and for the first time, she could see herself in this role and that was more important than anything anymore.

-:-

_**BLAINE  
><strong>_"Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

His stomach churned as he hesitantly reached for his book bag, silently begging Rachel to ask him to stay. Ever since his mad rush to her in the hospital a few days ago, it was getting harder to leave for class in morning and once his lecture started, he couldn't focus on anything but her. What if something like that happened again and she couldn't get in touch with anyone to help her? She had been lucky at rehearsal, but now that she had resigned from the production, she just sat at home by herself, watching day time television on the couch and fighting off the occasional wave of stomach pains. Blaine didn't like it; he didn't like it at all.

"I'll be fine," she always said, though she couldn't hide her grimacing frown from him. "School is important. Go."

But every day he left, he would come back to her curled into a tight ball on the couch, muttering in discomfort as her "common" kidney infection rode it's way out through her body. The doctor had told them both it was normal to still feel the pains, but it terrified Blaine more than he was willing to admit to her. So when Kurt texted him in the middle of class to say he was taking Rachel to a nearby clinic - "just the get checked out, don't worry" - Blaine decided then and there he had to do _something _about it.

Which is how he ended up in the admissions hall of NYU, trying to explain to the academic adviser why he was withdrawing from his Masters degree with only a semester and a half before completion. He insisted it was a deferment, that he had every intention of obtaining his Masters, but he honestly felt like he had more important things to take care of right now. The adviser said he shouldn't let his obvious talents in musical engineering and business go to waste, that this was not the time to lose focus on his future and a few months ago, Blaine would have agreed with him without a second thought. Except now his future had changed; it was this little girl, it was Rachel, it was figuring out how Kurt fit into this. It was in his family now, not a slip of paper that proved he spent the past six years with his nose in a book.

When he got home, he put his bag in the closet on the top shelf, knowing he wouldn't have any reason to get it down for months. There was an odd sense of finality to it, but it didn't feel like he had given anything up. It felt like, for the first time in a very long time, he had done the right thing. He only hoped Kurt and Rachel would see it that way too.

Kurt, he knew, would be gone until late night again, but he found Rachel in the kitchen stirring up a pot of vegetable soup and humming softly to the radio. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun and she wore no makeup, but there was something beautiful about her as she stood in the midday sun. It was hard to take his eyes off her and he was content to watch her from the doorway, but she turned and saw him lurking before too long.

"Hi," she greeted warmly, with only a touch of confusion in her voice. "What are you doing home so early?"

"Class ended," he said with a shrug, leaving the door frame and crossing over to the cabinets to pull down two bowls. "Did you make enough for me?"

"You can have a little," she said, but covered the pan with a lid before he could scoop any of the soup into their bowls, "if you tell me why you're really home so early."

Blaine chuckled and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "I left early," he admitted before taking a deep breath, "because I needed to go to the admissions office to hand in my withdrawal slip."

"Your with- you _dropped out of school?_" she exclaimed, her voice shrill and ringing through his ears by the time she completed her very loud question.

"I deferred," he replied automatically.

"Why would you do that?" she demanded, her jaw locked tight and her hands on her hips.

"I think the answer is fairly obvious," he remarked in return, staring pointedly at her and then her stomach.

"Blaine, no!" She had progressed to yelling at this point and he winced as the sounds bounced off the tile. "That is unacceptable and I won't allow it. You go take it back right now. Tell them you made a mistake and you want to be re-enrolled in your classes. I won't let you do this."

"It's already done," he argued back, though he made a conscious effort to keep his voice calm. "I made a choice and honestly, I feel good about it."

"Well I don't!" Rachel groaned as she started to pace the kitchen. "It's one thing for my life and my career to be put on hold because of my pregnancy, but there's no reason for you to have to do the same thing. Your education is important and you've worked so hard for this degree and I know that if you 'defer'," she said the word as if it were venom in her mouth, "now, you won't ever go back. That's what happens with things like this. You quit because you think there are more important things, but there's not Blaine. What's happening with me is not more important than this."

"Us," he corrected sternly and she stopped pacing long enough to look at him, her expression carefully guarded. But he could see the light in the corner of her eyes that meant she had heard the implication, that she understood what it meant even if it was still a thought far off in the distance. "This is happening with us and whether you like it or not, both of our lives are changing faster than we can keep up. Well, I'm trying and I can't be here and be in school at the same time. So yes, this is more important to me right now."

"You are here though," she said with a sigh as she sat down at the table. "You're always here when I need you."

"Like I was when you went to the hospital?" Blaine asked, his eyebrow quirked knowingly as she looked down away from him. "What would have happened if you hadn't been at rehearsal? I wasn't supposed to be home for hours and God know when Kurt was supposed to come back. You would have been alone and in pain and what would you have done?"

"I would have called someone, obviously," she replied.

"Rach," he sighed this time, sitting down next to her. "You forget that I saw you in there. You think you can hide these things from me, but you were in full panic mode and I wasn't there. I didn't even know anything was wrong until Dillon called. I don't know him, I don't have his number, what if I hadn't answered?"

"So your solution is to babysit me?" she groaned, rolling her eyes.

"No," Blaine laughed and she cracked a tiny smile. "I'm just saying I want to be around, and not just because something could go wrong. We both know there's more to it than that."

"What if I said there can't be?" she challenged.

"I think we're way past that," he said as he reached for her hand under the table, linking their fingers together and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah, we are" she chuckled quietly as she shook her head, "but that doesn't change anything right now."

"I think we both know that too," he agreed sadly, his thumb tracing slow circles into her flesh; she was right of course. He was getting closer and closer to knowing what he wanted, but it still felt like too little, too late. He had run away from anything hard or difficult for too long, and he had let himself settle into a life he wasn't sure he ever wanted. I was comfortable and secure and somewhere down the line, he convinced himself it would be selfish to ask for more. He had a home, a boyfriend he loved, a best friend he loved just as much, a decent enough job; he didn't need more. He was lucky and he wasn't willing to risk that; except he could see now how this complacency had screwed everything up in the long run. He was running out of time to make it right.

"Are we horrible people?" Rachel wondered out loud, her voice wistful as if she were talking to herself.

"No," Blaine told her, kissing her shoulder as he got up to finish making their lunch. "We're just people with a lot of mistakes between the two of us."

She only tried once to convince him to go back to classes the next day. He refused and insisted they spend the rest of the day watching movies, which they did until Rachel complained that she was hungry. Even then, they only left the couch to answer the door when their food was delivered, spreading it across the coffee table like a grand feast and continued watching _Saturday Night Fever – _his pick obviously – and watched Tony Manero disco during their meal.

At some point during _Hello Dolly, _Rachel had curled into him, her head resting against his chest as his arms went around her waist and by the time they had moved on to _Labyrinth, _they were both laying across the couch in a comfortable tangle of limbs and warmth. Before the Goblin King had even made an appearance, Rachel had completely fallen asleep and Blaine found it difficult to concentrate on anything else but the way he could feel the slightest swell to her stomach as it pressed against his, how content she looked as she slept in his arms. An overwhelming realization washed over him as she smiled against his skin; he felt whole.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt like this, like everything in the world was the way it should be. It dawned on him that every moment he could think of that even came close to this involved Rachel in some way and guiltily, he knew he should have immediately thought of Kurt and all the times they were happy. Because they had been once; they had loved once, deeply and part of him knew that thread would always run through his life. Nothing would ever replace who Kurt was and what he meant to Blaine and it hurt more than he could bear to imagine that was over.

He could fight it, he knew. He could ignore Rachel's pleas to keep their infidelity a secret and tell Kurt everything. He could grovel and plead and do literally anything to convince Kurt he needed him and wanted to stay with him. And every terrified part of him wanted to do just that, to keep things the way they had been so long. To love his boyfriend, but he just... couldn't anymore. He knew, as Rachel sighed softly in her sleep, that he would never be able to walk away from her. As much as he loved Kurt, he loved Rachel and he loved her more.

He always had, he just didn't understand what it meant and now it was like being run over by a freight train. It could kill him.

Blaine heard the door open and close to the sound of roaring laughter quickly quieted once Kurt realized most of the lights in the apartment were off. "I think they're sleeping," he said in a hushed whisper as he passed the living room.

"Is that them on the couch?" Blaine recognized the second voice as Eli's, a friend of Kurt's he had never particularly liked, though he often resisted saying so. There was just something about the way he spoke to Kurt, things he would say about Blaine or about Rachel, that rubbed him the wrong way. Often because it felt too close to the truth.

Rachel stirred in his arms as Kurt and Eli moved around in the kitchen, her round eyes fluttering open questioningly as they found his. He quieted her with a gentle finger to her lips and she sank back down into his chest and seemed unwilling to move anymore and he wouldn't be the one to ask her.

"She doesn't look pregnant," he heard Eli announce and the sharp intake of breath told him that Rachel had heard him as well.

"She's not even five months yet," Kurt explained with disinterest, and Blaine could almost see how he might shrug and turn around, his signal that it wasn't a thing worth talking about. "It's like, four and a half."

"I thought that's when girls started to show," Eli pressed on anyway.

"It's different for everyone, I think."

"Maybe she's faking it," Eli laughed and Rachel gasped in surprise, but Blaine held her still and tried to ignore the way his blood had started simmering at the mere suggestion.

"She would have nothing to gain from that Eli," Kurt sighed. "Trust me, she's pregnant."

"I'm just saying, she looks awfully cozy with your boyfriend out there," he retorted.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Kurt hissed and it hit Blaine like ice, cold and hard. Kurt was defending him and Blaine didn't know how to feel about it. Guilty mostly for doing exactly what Kurt was saying he hadn't, but a jolt of pride and love flashed through him as well until a deep sadness drowned it out.

"Maybe I don't," Eli admitted, but Blaine could practically see the smug grin on his face, "or maybe I do. But onto more important things: are you going to do it?"

Blaine heard Kurt laugh, a light and free sound he hadn't heard in so long. "I don't know," Kurt said. "You know I've been thinking about it for weeks. It's like the only think on my mind, but Los Angeles is so far and I haven't even talked to Blaine about it."

"Screw Blaine; no one cares what he has to say!" Eli practically screamed as Blaine began to fume silently. Rachel was glaring towards the kitchen, but her hand found his in comfort. "This is a once in a lifetime chance," Eli was saying, "and you have to take it. Kurt, this is a real movie set and the director wants you there."

"You act like I'll be starring in this or something," Kurt laughed. "It's just as an assistant to the director. I'll be getting him coffee more than anything."

"You will be an assistant director on a movie that thousands, if not millions, will see," Eli said emphatically. "Your name will be in Hollywood and you can get out of this town directing small time plays only half the house sees. You could make it out there. You have 'the eye' he said."

"He was being flattering."

"He wants you."

"I still have to talk to Blaine," Kurt sighed sadly.

"You better do it soon," Eli insisted. "You're supposed to leave in a week."

"I will," Kurt agreed. "I'm just waiting for the right time.

Blaine couldn't bring himself to say anything; just listened to the pair rummage around the kitchen before leaving again. Rachel sat up quietly, asked if he was okay, but he couldn't answer her either. No, he wasn't okay. He was far from okay. Kurt was leaving him and it was painful, but at the same time, Blaine knew it had to happen, that even if they were still in a stable relationship, Kurt would be a fool to turn this kind of opportunity down and Blaine wouldn't let him.

But that conversation was everything that was wrong between him and Kurt. They couldn't talk to each other, not about the things that matter. It was all carefully guarded words and half-truths, fears they couldn't express and it hurt even more to think he had caused Kurt to feel that way. Blaine, he had reasons for the things he couldn't tell Kurt, but he didn't know that Kurt might have his own to keep from being open with Blaine. It was a wedge driving them apart, and it had been for years. They were just feeling it now.

It had to end.

"So, when were you going to tell me about LA?" Blaine asked as he sat down across from Kurt, who started sputtering and choking on his morning coffee. Blaine waited for him to settle down and push his drink away before he said anything else. Taking Kurt by surprise wasn't the best idea perhaps, but it was the only way Blaine knew to get the upper hand and for this, he felt he would need it. "I heard you talking to Eli the other night."

-:-

"Eli was just being a jerk," Kurt tried to explain, but Blaine merely shook his head.

"I think you missed what I said," he interrupted. "I heard _you _and what _you _said was that you were just waiting for the right time to bring it up. Well this is it, this is the right time Kurt."

"It's a good opportunity," Kurt insisted, his hand reaching over the table as if to take Blaine's, but Blaine pulled back, folding his in his lap. Kurt looked hurt, but his eyes hardened as he sat back, his arms crossed over his chest. "You can't expect me to turn this down."

"I don't," Blaine sighed. "I think you should go."

"I'm so glad I have your permission," Kurt scoffed, standing up from the table and paced over the the sink, throwing his half-consumed coffee down the drain in a show of irritation. Blaine didn't try to stop him, just let him rant on about the work he would be doing on a movie set, the experience he would get and the connections he might make to further their lives together. He didn't know that Blaine had different ideas and when he was finished, looking to Blaine for whatever answer he wanted, Blaine took a deep breath:

"And I think we should take a break."

It was amazing the effect a few simple words strung together could have on a person. Kurt's arms fell to his sides, his jaw dropped slightly, and his eyes, his crystalline blue eyes became shaded in panicked tears. He almost seemed to shake or shiver, as if her were suddenly cold, but they both knew it wasn't a chill. It was Blaine. It was his words. It was the looming inevitability that one way or another, something was being broken and Kurt was powerless to stop it.

Again, Blaine waited for Kurt to collect himself before speaking. "You didn't talk to me," he explained, surprised that he could manage to look into Kurt's wavering eyes, "and that's a problem, Kurt. We have problems."

"Everyone has problems!" Kurt exclaimed. "That doesn't mean that we should just throw away all these years of being together because we have communication issues and I know you don't tell me everything."

"That is exactly my point!" Blaine argued. "You want to fly across country for three months and you didn't feel like you could talk to me about it and there has to be a reason why. Did you think I'd say no, don't go?"

"I knew you wouldn't!" Kurt shouted, "and damn it Blaine, you're supposed to tell me you don't want me to leave you. You're supposed to say you can't be away from me for three months, and I knew you wouldn't say that. I knew you would smile at me and say you were happy, and you would wave me off at the airport and I would spend the next three months missing you and you wouldn't even care."

"I wouldn't _care_?" Blaine repeated, his voice rising angrily for the first time. "Kurt, I can't imagine my life without you and it's killing me. I don't want to hurt you but I-." His throat closed up on it's own accord and he struggled to find the words he needed to say to Kurt without breaking his promise to Rachel, but they weren't coming. There was no middle line anymore. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

"Try."

Blaine flinched away from the word as if it has been a knife aimed at his heart. "We try," he whispered, finally looking away from his upset boyfriend. " What do you think we've been doing for the past six years. Ever since that Christmas in Rockerfeller, all we do is try and I can't do it anymore. I can't."

"It sounds like you don't want a break, you want to break up entirely," Kurt muttered, tears falling freely down his face at this point.

"We need space to figure this out," he answered.

"I'm going to Los Angeles," Kurt scoffed. "That's thousands of miles worth of space. Can I just go to LA, miss you, and then come home? Can we do that?"

"You mean ignore this?" Blaine laughed humorlessly. "That's why we're having this conversation in the first place."

"Is there someone else?" Kurt said with a glare and Blaine's stomach lurched and dropped into his shoes; the truth was right there, in just one syllable – _yes – _but all he could picture was Kurt screaming at Rachel, picture her crying and how Kurt would look like he might shatter like he did whenever he heard bad news and again, Blaine didn't say anything. At least Kurt didn't give him much of a chance as he threw his hands up defensively and added, "no, I don't want to know. I just want to know how we are going to fix this."

"I told you what I-."

"I don't accept that," Kurt interjected, shaking his head over and over.

"You have to," Blaine pleaded.

"I won't lose you," Kurt cried.

"I don't want to lose you either," Blaine said thickly, "but there's so much- right now, I think that's our only option."

"Fine," Kurt spat at him, his words filled with a venom Blaine had rarely heard from him as he stalked across the kitchen towards the door. "You can have your little break. I'm packing for LA and I'm staying at Eli's until I leave next week and I hope you have a fucking grand time living in my apartment, sleeping in my bed, with all my things."

He paused at the entry way, turning just enough to glare at Blaine over his shoulder. "As for Rachel, you tell her I want to talk to her. You remind her that she was my friend first."

-:-

True to his word, Kurt left and he didn't even look back. He didn't call or text and Blaine didn't try to get in touch with him either. It was one of the harder things Blaine could ever remember doing, staying away from Kurt but the more time that passed, the more Blaine felt he had done the right thing. Still, he worried when he didn't get to hear from him or see him everyday. It was a lingering feeling and the only indication he had that Kurt hadn't simply disappeared completely came from Rachel, who spent most of her time with him in the week before he was set to jet off the the other side of the country.

"I can't believe you did this," she yelled at him on the third day, her glare prickling at his skin. She was in his room, reading a list of things Kurt had forgotten and stuffing them into her pink suitcase for him.

"Did what?"

"This!" she gestured wildly at the room around her that Blaine hadn't bothered to pick up since Kurt had flown out in a rage, leaving clothes strewn everywhere. Pictures of the two of them were turned over and more than half of the en suite bathroom seemed to be missing. "Do you realize what I'm doing here? I'm packing for Kurt because he won't come here because _you," _she practically hissed at him, "broke up with him and sent him away just when I need him the most."

"I did not send him away," Blaine scoffed, picking up one of Kurt's favorite scarves off the floor, folding it carefully and handing it to her. "And really, you need him? You think you do, but you don't. You use him like a crutch to avoid facing anything that involves us and I _know _you do because I do the same thing."

"You promised me Blaine," she said in deflection, tossing a pair of skinny jeans into the suitcase.

"I promised that I wouldn't tell him I'm the father of your baby," he reminded her, retrieving the jeans to fold those as well. "And I obviously still haven't, but I couldn't keep lying to him about everything. It fucking sucks and he deserves better. This is the only way I can give it to him."

"You can't give him anything if he's in California," Rachel snapped at him, zipping the suitcase shut in a flourish before she realized he was still holding Kurt's jeans. She sighed, snagging them back from him and stuffed them into one of the pockets on the side. "He's going to be hurt when you don't fight to get him back."

"He's going to be hurt either way," Blaine said quietly, the words sticking in his throat. "Just tell him I'm sorry, okay?"

"Are you?" she demanded of him and he couldn't help the glare he shot in her direction.

"Of course I am," he growled. "He was my life for six years, eight if you count high school and just because I managed to fuck things up beyond repair doesn't change how I felt about him all this time. I loved him, and you know that."

"And this is how you end it?" she questioned haughtily. "Just out of the blue, with no warning and you don't even give him a chance to change your mind."

"Isn't that how you do things?" Blaine finally snapped back. "I mean really Rachel, let's remember how you dumped me over the goddamn phone."

"That was different!"

"It wasn't!" he yelled over her before she could say anything else. "It hurt."

She just stood there, her hand on the little pink handle to her suitcase and even though he knew it was packed with Kurt's things, it looked like she was getting ready to leave him too. Again. Just like everyone else and he knew it was all his fault one way or another, but he couldn't stomach the thought of watching her walk out the door. He couldn't stop her and he knew she would be back, but the image was too much for him. So he did the only thing he could do. He left first.

He wandered the streets of New York until the sun went down, remembering when he had first moved to the city. Things had been simple. He had been so sure he was done with Kurt, that Rachel was just his best friend, that there was nothing holding him down to anyone or anything. But his heart had gotten in the way, and his head in the way of his heart until six years later he was walking the same streets feeling incredibly lost.

He nearly laughed out loud when he finally looked up from the sidewalk to see where he had ended up. A simple brownstone building with ten stories, a rickety old fire escape crawling out of one of the windows on the top floor. The walls in that room were a golden yellow, faded slightly after years of use, but always bright and warm, welcoming the weary home after a long and confusing day. He had been led home, he thought, staring up at Rachel's old apartment. He had run straight to her.

There was a note on the refrigerator, hastily scrawled on pink paper that seemed a direct contradiction to the short and hostile manner Rachel used to tell him she was staying out late with Kurt and he shouldn't expect to see her before he went to sleep. In fact, he got the distinct impression that if he waited up for her, she might wake the neighbors for all her screaming at him. It wasn't until just past eleven when the note fell off the door that he noticed the tiny script on the back; just two little words but it made him smile:

"_I'm sorry."_

She didn't come back to the apartment for two days, not until after Kurt officially departed for California without a word to Blaine. Even then, she tried her hardest to ignore him, which was increasingly difficult considering they both had very little left to their lives outside of the four walls they lived together in. Blaine still went to work, but the majority of his day was spent with Rachel, whether she was speaking to him or not. If she managed to stay in the same room with him for more than fifteen minutes, he counted that as a victory.

Occasionally she would watch a movie in the living room while he was trying to spread a sheet across the couch so he could sleep later. She hadn't said anything to him about sleeping on the couch, and if she'd bothered to ask, he would have told her that he couldn't stay in the bed he shared with Kurt when he was thinking about her. It felt dirty to him, like one of the biggest insults he could possibly do to Kurt. But she didn't ask and it wasn't something he was willing to say to someone who may or may not be listening. But she would always hand him a pillow as he drifted away before disappearing for the night.

If she locked herself in her room during the day, he set up a makeshift studio in the breakfast nook, running his long extension cords for his sound board down the hall while his laptop and amps cluttered the outlets around the kitchen. Even if he wasn't in school anymore, there was something comforting and familiar about working on his thesis. It was a world he could control. He could change the entire mood of a song by changing a chord or adding a new one. He could strip it away, make it vulnerable. He could make it strong. He could be exactly who he needed to be and eventually, everything would come out right. And if he were lucky, whoever listened to it would understand where he was coming from.

He couldn't exactly blame her for being angry or feeling betrayed, but he had at least expected her to realize why he had to do it. Even if he had called it a break, he knew in his heart his time with Kurt was over. It should have been as soon as he cheated on him with Rachel. He should have owned up to it then and there, but fear and anger and pride had gotten in the way, just like what was happening now with Rachel.

"We're not doing this again," Blaine said after over a week of silent treatment from her.

"We're not doing anything," Rachel sighed, doing her best to look away from him.

He caught her by the arm gently and turned her around, tucking a finger under her chin until her gaze had nowhere to go but to his. "We're not talking," he replied, his voice soft as he spoke to her. "You're avoiding me and I'm doing my best to let you, but if we keep doing this, things are just going to get screwed up again. I don't want that."

"I don't think you know what you want," she said in a heavy voice. "I know I don't."

"This is the time to figure it out."

"Why?" she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Because Kurt's gone and we don't have to worry about getting caught?

"Because if we don't do it now, we never will," he said in a rush before she really had a chance to get going, "This is too important to ignore anymore Rachel. It's not just you and me anymore." She seemed to soften at that, her hands floating to her stomach. He reached out hesitantly, waiting for her to flinch away from him, but she stay still and watched him until his hand joined her, fingers interwoven over her abdomen. "It's her too."

"One day," Rachel breathed slowly, and he could hear traces of fear and apprehension in her voice, "she's going to ask who her father is and I don't think I'll be able to lie to her."

"I wouldn't want you to," he shook his head. "I want to be there and when I'm not, I want you to be able to tell her about me. I want you to be able to tell her how much I love you."

"You love me?" Rachel scoffed, but it wasn't bitter or harsh, just sad and disheartened. "I don't even know what that is with you Blaine. I've had to listen to you say that to Kurt for six years and you didn't mean it."

"That's not fair," he whispered, withdrawing from her.

"I don't care," she insisted, flouncing down on the living room couch, unmade from his restless night before. "It's how I feel. Can you understand how scared I am? My entire life is spinning out of my grasp and for the longest time, you've been my anchor. But now you're spinning too and I don't know what to believe. I can't trust myself or how I feel because I can't trust you."

"Rach-."

"And I hate it!" she continued, her eyes brimming with frustration. "I don't like feeling this far away from you and I need you. It's not Kurt, it's not anyone but you, but what am I supposed to do when all I can think about is how much it hurt when you left. It was years ago and I should be over it, but I'm not. We had this perfect summer and I always fall too hard and too fast and that's my fault but you do the same thing and I thought at least I'd be at the bottom with you. But I kept falling and you got out."

"You pushed me out," Blaine cried indignantly.

"You didn't fight for me!"

Blaine paused and let the words echo in his head as if it were an answer to a question he never knew he had; in a way, it was. He always assumed the reason they fell apart was largely his fault. He had confused his feelings for her, muddled them up with his reawakening affections for Kurt. But underneath all of that, he had never understood where she was coming from, or why she had pushed him away so suddenly. He had just let her go.

"I didn't know you wanted me too," he finally said, dropping to his knees in front of her. "I swear Rachel, if you had told me back then that this is how things were going to work out, I would have done everything differently."

"Everything?" she gulped, her eyes widening. He nodded, leaning into her until his forehead was pressed against hers with one of his hands cupped around the back of her neck, trailing through her silky hair. "Who's to say we wouldn't have ended up here anyway, but me as Kurt instead?"

"I do," he tried to reassure her. "This has been a long time coming and I'm sorry it took all of this for me to see it. I'm done pretending this isn't real. I'm just waiting for you."

"What if I'm not there yet?"

"I'll still be here when you are."

-:-

It wasn't immediate, but Rachel did start to come around. It was in the little things; she would say good morning or have the coffee ready when he woke up. She would sit closer to him on the couch as they watched yet another movie and if she were really tired, lean into his shoulder. She would text him when he was at work, just to check in. It felt like he was getting her back, piece by piece.

It wasn't until a few weeks later when they seemed to click back into place. He was sitting in the kitchen, his headphones snapped over one ear. His mixing equipment was spread out across the table and counters as he fiddled with the sound on some instrumentals his old band buddy was trying to turn into a song, and he was only half listening as Eric complained about it just not sounding right. He barely heard him at all as he started turning knobs and dials.

"Are you fixing it?" Eric pleaded.

"Just stop mixing man," Blaine laughed, flipping another switch. "You have no feel for this."

"I'm trying to be a serious musician, I should know how to do this shit," Eric groaned, leaning back in his chair. "Can I have that ice cream in the freezer?"

"It's soy, you won't like it," Blaine shrugged distractedly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he listened to the song in his headphones.. "It's Rachel's."

"And how is baby mamma doing?"

"Go ask her yourself," Blaine glared at him. "She's right down the hall."

Eric didn't move, just continued to ask mundane questions as Blaine worked on his song. Eventually they fell into an easy silence. Eric had "normal people ice cream" tucked into the back of the fridge and was eating his way through the carton while Blaine could feel himself getting closer and closer to successfully mixing the music into a cohesive, interesting composition. It was right there, right at his fingertips.

"BLAINE!"

His little world shattered as Rachel's shrill scream echoed down the hall and he bolted out of his chair, startling Eric even more and ran towards Rachel's room. All the worst scenarios ran through his head; she had another kidney infection, she had fallen, she was hurt, the baby was hurt. A thousand different possibilities and in the few seconds it took to reach the door, he feared the worst. But when burst into her room, she was standing in front of the mirror, her jaw agape while her hands wrapped around her stomach. Her noticeably swollen stomach.

"I'm not just imagining it right?" she asked breathlessly, her fingers roaming around a bulge in her stomach he could have sworn wasn't there the day before. It was kind of small, but on her tiny frame, the roundness that protruded out of her normally flat stomach seemed even bigger on her than it probably was. "It's really there. You can see it right?"

"I can see it."

"I don't- is this normal?" She sounded almost breathless, slightly panicked even. He was by her side in an instant, his hand rubbing soothing circles in her back as she continued to stare are herself in the mirror.

"You're six months now," he said softly, moving her hair off her neck. "You're supposed to start showing now, aren't you?"

"But does it happen like this, over night?" she wondered.

"We can call the doctor," Blaine suggested, "or look it up online."

"I don't feel like anything is wrong," she said shaking her head. "It's just... incredible."

"Yeah," Blaine smiled. "It is."

"We did this," she practically giggled, turning around and throwing her arms around his shoulders. Instinctively his arms circled around her waist, holding her tightly to him. Her lips pressed against his collar, and he might have taken it as an accident if she hadn't woven her fingers into his hair and pulled him down, molding her lips into his. It was light and free and it carried him away only to bring him crashing back down with every taste he was given of her. It was more than he ever wanted and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he didn't feel guilty for wanting it.

She pulled away slowly and blushed, but he just cupped the apples of her cheeks, spreading featherlight kisses across her eyelids. She smiled at him happily, her hands curving once again around her new stomach as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. Right now, looking at her and the way she practically glowed, Blaine could agree that it was.

"Wow," a voice in the doorway said and they both turned to look at Eric, whom Blaine had completely forgotten was there. "You're like, really pregnant Rachel."

She giggled lightly, falling back into the circle of Blaine's arms. Blaine grinned at his friend and said, "Eric, buddy, I have to ask you to leave."

"But my song-."

"I'll email it to you."

"Dude are you like-," Eric stuttered as Blaine pushed him out of Rachel's room and down the hall towards the front door. . "Dude. Did you do that?"

"Goodbye Eric," Blaine replied, using Eric out of the apartment, his resounding "DUDE!" heard through the closed door.

"Is he gone?" Rachel asked, padding down the hallway after him, her eyes shining still.

"He is," Blaine smiled, his hands reaching out curl around her again.

"Good," was all she said before her fingers were tangled in his hair again, dragging him down to crash into her again. It was too much and too little at the same time and he couldn't keep his hands still around her. They ghosted down her sides, trailing along her hips and she pulled at his belt loops stumbling back to her bedroom. He managed to untie the sweats she was wearing and they pooled around her feet as they fell to the ground, followed shortly by his shirt and jeans, until she was left in just a tank top and he in his boxers.

"I'm not complaining," he laughed as she pushed him down on the bed, straddling his waist, "but this is kind of coming out of nowhere."

"I'm pregnant," she whispered huskily. "I'm horny, and I want you. I miss you." He groaned as she gripped him tightly through the fabric of his boxers, stroking up and down at her leisure but he was growing harder with every touch. "Do you know how hard it's been, knowing I could have you, and staying away from you? I thought I was doing right by Kurt by waiting, but I don't want to any more."

"I'm going to leave him, you know?" Blaine said with sudden seriousness, his hand stilling hers. "I am."

"I know," she said after a minute, pulling him up for a soft kiss, the angle of their hips against each other different than he'd ever felt as her rounded stomach fell between them.

"He deserves to be told face-to-face," he explained carefully. "I owe him more than a text or an email. I owe him more than a phone call. When he comes back from California, I'll tell him."

"We'll tell him," she agreed with a nod. "Everything. He deserves to know."

"Thank you," Blaine sighed with relief, his forehead resting against her chest. "Rachel I- just thank you."

"Don't thank me," she replied, her lips dipping down just below his ear, her hot breath on his skin. "Kiss me."

He did; and she kissed him without fear or hesitation, or guilt. Just pure and simple, in a way it had been during their single summer together, when the didn't have much to worry about except what the other wanted, how they felt against each other, how they tasted and flushed under the barest of touches. She moved against him, her mouth against his skin as he grasped her hips as she pushed his boxers away, holding him in her hand until she took him in, sliding as far down as she could. A moan fell from her throat, so deep it seemed to vibrate through him. His hips buckled into hers on their own accord, begging her to move, but he waited until she found a place where she felt comfortable. Slowly, as they grew accustomed to each other again, to her new shape, she guided herself up and down, until they found a pace that worked for them both.

He could see the edge, that dangerous precipice waiting for him to fall off of but he didn't want to go without her. She was just so tight and warm, and he wasn't sure he was going to make it but then her fingernails dug into his chest and she closed in around him with quivering, shaking walls. Her movements became for frantic, desperate and he seemed to take over for her, his hands a vice around her hips as he rose up to meet her. She came with his name dripping from his lips, sweet as any song he had ever heard.

She seemed exhausted afterward, laying on her side as he curled up behind her, their legs tangled together. He listened to her breathe, the sound lulling him into a sleep he knew his body didn't need but there was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to be near her. To fall asleep in her bed, to hold her, to truly feel like he could be with her, it was everything and just before he fell into the beckoning darkness, he heard her voice once again, saying:

"I love you."

-:-

_**RACHEL  
><strong>_Over the next couple of weeks, the small bulge Rachel had caused so much commotion over grew faster and faster until she looked, for all intents and purposes, properly pregnant. Her clothing before she had managed to stuff herself into, though it had been just a little snug, but as the weeks went by, she had been forced to break out the elastic bands and large shirts. She had borrowed one of Blaine's when she demanded he take her shopping, his smell comforting to her as she tried on skirts in sizes she had never worn.

She had wanted to cry at one point, looking at the long and flowing skirts that just were not her, but Blaine kept telling her she was beautiful, that she would always be beautiful, and to her, nothing else mattered except his voice and the light in his eyes that he looked at her with. She could glimpse in the mirror and see that same light in hers. They were happy, she realized, and free to be so.

Technically, Blaine was still on his break from Kurt, but she knew they were done. She had known it as soon as Blaine initiated it, long before he had explicitly told her that he was going to leave. She just needed to be sure that he was serious about her, truly serious and not just looking for sturdy ground to stand on; and maybe it was petty, but by pushing him away, she could be sure. Because this time, he didn't let her go. He stayed and fought for her in his way and that was all she needed from him.

Because she did love him. Always had. Even when she had been with Jesse, who she loved in the way she supposed Blaine loved Kurt, she had always felt herself drawn to Blaine in a way that pure attraction and friendship could never explain. Jesse had seen it and even though it hurt the way he had left, part of her had expected it. She often wondered if even Kurt knew it, just from the way he said things or looked at them sometimes; the difference was that since Kurt never knew she had been with Blaine, he had the luxury of believing that their friendship was just a friendship, however deep and codependent it might be. She wondered if he would be at all surprised when he found out it wasn't.

"There's no way to know," Blaine said as they sat in Central Park, eating from the picnic she had packed for their shopping expedition. "Maybe he's figured it out or maybe we'll completely blindside him, but either way, we still have to tell him."

"I know," she said a bit too sharply, then softened as Blaine's face fell. "I just wish I knew what to expect."

"At this point, we just have to take whatever comes our way," Blaine shrugged, crushing the foil around his sandwich into a ball. "There's no backing out, not for me, but I can tell him on my own if you want."

"No," she insisted, taking his hand in hers and giving it an assuring squeeze. "I've told you a thousand times Blaine, we'll both tell him. As much as he deserves to hear from you, he deserves to hear from me as well. This was not one sided on your part and I don't want you to take all the blame for it."

"Even though he's going to feel like everything was a lie on my part."

"I know it wasn't," Rachel smiled wryly at him. "One day, maybe Kurt will too."

"I hope so," he sighed, laying his head down on her stomach as she sifted her fingers casually through his hair. "But that's not up to me, or you. However this plays out, at least I'll have finally done the right thing. And maybe you and I can..."

He went silent, letting his thought trail off into the quiet air of the park. Rachel waited for him to continue, but several moments passed without a word from him. "Maybe we can finally work things out," she suggested wistfully. "Just you and me, I mean. No worries about other people and their feelings or ruining our relationship. We're older and I know now you mean so much more to me than I could have ever admitted when we were 19. That was our mistake, you know, convincing ourselves that our friendships were more important than anything else. I think it just made everything harder and it could have all stopped if we bothered to say 'I love you' and mean it."

There was a slight pause and he leaned up to kiss her chastely; as his mouth fell open, she continued, "I love you, Blaine. I've never said it to you when I though you could hear and it's the scariest thing I can think of to say it now. Our lives are so complicated, and the only thing that makes it easier, that makes me think I can do anything at all, is because I love you."

"I love you," he said reverently, a hand tucking her hair behind her ear. "I never want you to doubt that. I'll tell you everyday, as often as you need me too, as long as you know."

"I do," she nodded, brushing her lips against his forehead. "I think I've always known." Peace washed over her as they rested in the park for a little while longer, her hands playing in the ends of his hair, his fingers tracing tiny shapes into her belly. She felt lighter. It was like she could feel her world coming together and if they just stay like that, nothing could hurt them anymore. They couldn't hurt each other anymore.

Eventually, they had to leave, but the feeling stayed with her even as he hoisted himself up and packed up their bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He turned and offered her a hand up, which she took. She must have gotten up too quickly, she guessed, as her stomach lurched and she stumbled into his arms. He caught her around the chest as her knees seemed to give out, concern lacing his features.

"Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

"Yeah," she responded earnestly, finding her feet once again as she carefully stood up on her own accord. She kissed him again, soft and sweet until she felt his worry melt away. "I'm fine, I promise. I just can't move as fast as I used to."

They walked out of the park hand in hand, though she couldn't seem to move her other hand away from stomach.

-:-

They only had a few weeks left where they could lock the door and ignore the world outside and in that time, they tried to pour as much of themselves into each other as they could. Blaine stopped sleeping on the couch at her request and came to rest beside her every night. She would wake in the morning wrapped around him, both of them tangled in the sheets as they held each other through the night. Some days they wouldn't leave her bed until well after noon, just content to lay next to each other, to touch, to kiss, and if they let things get out of control – as they were often apt to do – they would fall into perfect bliss as their bodies made up for all the lost time.

But before they knew it, her seven month came along and with it, Kurt's inevitable return from Los Angeles. It seemed to weigh down on Blaine more heavily than it did her, with good reason she knew, and she did her best to support him through his nerves. He became restless, torn between wanting to get it over with and putting it off, and she sometimes had to remind him to eat or coax him to bed. She couldn't blame him, the stress was having it's own effect on her. She felt tired and sluggish; some mornings she had to talk herself into getting out of bed, telling herself that if she would just start moving around, she would feel better.

The main reason she did was so that Blaine wouldn't worry about her. She knew he did either way, but there with everything else he was trying to deal with, her being tired didn't seem like much in the grand scheme. So she would smile, put a little more makeup to cover up her paling face, and proceed living her normal day, deflecting any observation Blaine made about her pushing herself too hard. She would be better as soon as all of this was over.

Blaine didn't sleep the night before Kurt was due back and she thought he looked like a frayed wire that might spark at any moment. She had heard from Eli via text that Kurt would be in at sometime after four, but didn't know if Kurt was coming over to his place, or going back to the apartment he used to share with Blaine. She hoped, for Blaine's sake, that Kurt would come here. They both needed to see each other after all the time that had passed, after so much had changed.

Blaine offered to make her lunch around one, just to have something to do though she knew he wouldn't eat himself. She let him make it, though she couldn't bring herself to eat it either. She wasn't hungry. She was tired and it felt like every muscle in her body ached and there was this odd floating sensation that would roll through her head every time she tried to stand up. So she didn't, just curled up next to Blaine and held his hand, brushing aside her discomfort for general unease.

It only lasted an hour until she felt so dizzy she couldn't move her head off Blaine's shoulder without feeling like she would faint. She tried to eat her abandoned lunch, hoping it would settle her down, but she just felt weak and nauseous. Her water and special caffeine-free tea didn't help at all.

"Something's wrong, I know it," Blaine said as he brushed her bangs out of her face, his hand coming back with sweat. "You're burning up like you have a fever."

"I'm fine," she argued stubbornly. "I just haven't been sleeping well."

"You don't get a fever just because you haven't slept," he insisted, looking at her sternly.

"I'm stressed out, just like you," Rachel huffed, moving away from him on the couch, her stomach swimming dangerously with the movement. "I'll be fine. I am fine."

She stood up. Then she fell.

Or she thought she was falling, but it was like passing through water in slow motion. The world distorted around her in waves and she felt her feet drift away from her as if they ran along their own current. There was a darkness rushing up to meet her, cool and deep, and she passed through it before she even realized she hadn't hit the floor.

Blaine's voice called her back, frantic and rushed, her name being repeated over and over again. There was a weight on her face, lingering and traveling like it couldn't stay still. She didn't remember closing her eyes, but her eyelashes parted in fluttering spasms. She could just make out Blaine's amber eyes, but she couldn't bring them into focus. She blinked, trying to clear her vision.

"Rachel, wake up," she heard him say and it didn't make sense. She wasn't asleep. She was just looking at him a moment ago. But her body began to feel heavy, like she was being dragged down by something she couldn't see. Like a rope and it was tied around her stomach, tugging and pulling in time with Blaine's voice, fighting him off. "Stay awake, please."

She couldn't. It was too hard. The weight settled on her stomach and if she could have without drowning in the black, she would have screamed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Sorry it took me so long, as usual. Apparently being in school is not conductive to actual writing. For those waiting on _Happenstance, _that's my next goal.

**a few notes on pregnancy: **Kidney infections are common in pregnant women and can be extremely painful, similar or in conjecture with a urinary tract infection. It can and will manifest suddenly, like appendicitis. Also, it is common for women who are small in stature, frame, and are pregnant for the first time to "pop". She can start to show very suddenly, which is what I chose to do when considering Rachel.

_I write, you read, you review, and I write more._


	11. Chapter Eleven

_**BLAINE  
><strong>_This wasn't real. It was a fog, like one of those days where the heat made the world swim in impossible lines. This was a nightmare that had taken hold and refused to let him go and if he could only somehow find a way to fight and claw his way out of it, then it would stop and the world would welcome him back with open arms as it breathed a sigh of relief. She would smile, and he would curl into her side and let her warmth wash away this unbelievable cold that was surrounding him.

This is exactly what would happen, he was sure of it if only he could move his arms, or stand up from the chair he felt chained to. If his mind would clear enough to form a coherent thought. But he couldn't function. He felt like he was part of the fog. Everything felt heavy around him, but at the same time, he could have been made of cobwebs as they were carried off with the breeze. There was something holding him down to the earth when all he wanted to do was float away.

"Mr. Anderson?" a voice as if it were coming though a tunnel called his name and he was surprised to notice that it belonged to a pretty redhead sitting next to him dressed in all blue. There was something around her neck – silver and long – and she was shining a bright light into his eyes, a concerned look on her unfocused face. "How do you feel?"

He couldn't make his mouth work abut she seemed to expect and answer so with great effort, he shook his head back and forth slowly. She smiled sadly at him, her hand on his shoulder. "We had to sedate you," she explained and while he knew that should have meant something to him, the words felt empty and void.

"Wh-y?" he chocked out, his throat dry.

She started speaking again, and as he focused on her mouth, his eyes began to regain some control and the world started to get a bit sharper. Words were starting to sound familiar, even if his brain couldn't quite connect them to their meanings just yet. Words like: _missing heartbeat... induce labor... placental separation... bleeding... mom's fading... stillborn._

_Stillborn._

Stillborn.

"I'm going to throw up," he gasped, his stomach lurching violently as he doubled over in his seat, his hands over his mouth. A sweat broke out on his neck and a bright red bucket appeared underneath him. Acid burned is throat as it came up, his entire body jerking in spasms that didn't stop even after his heaves turned into dry, wracking things that pulled at every nerve in his body. His eyes began to water and he couldn't be sure if it were an effect of his vomiting or if he had inexplicably started crying in the midst of it all, but he couldn't stop the tears as they fell.

The redhead he now recognized as a nurse was rubbing comforting circles into his back, but it left him feeling numb. "Rachel," he managed to say, his voice torn and raspy. "I need to see Rachel."

"You can't right now," the nurse tried to say calmly.

He just shook his head and pushed the bucket away from him. He tried to stand up and ignore the shaking in his knees, but he didn't even make it out of the chair before the nurse had pushed him back down. She was talking again, throwing all these complicated medical terms and explanations for why he couldn't go to Rachel. But it didn't matter; he didn't care. He needed to see her. He needed to see that she was still there. That she wasn't gone.

"No," he repeated, pushing at the nurse's hands that tried to hold him down. "No, I need to see her and I don't want anyone to tell me I can't. I don't care."

"She isn't-."

"_I don't care!" _he shouted, springing up and moving past her more quickly that he should have been able to. He must have taken her by surprise. That was the only reason she had let him go, why he made it halfway down the hall before she caught up to him, whatever warnings she had left falling on deaf ears. He only stopped when he found her door, marked with a hasty scrawled "Berry, R." It was so impersonal; it wasn't her. There wasn't even a star next to her name, nothing to show that it was really her.

He pushed the door open, his hand shaking. It was cold and quiet, the opposite of everything he equated with Rachel, and he was sure he had the wrong room. Because that couldn't be her, lying so still in the stark white sheets lining the hospital bed. She wasn't that pale – she shined like the sun – and there was no earthly reason she would need that many wires jutting out of her skin. Everywhere he looked, there was a translucent cord connecting her to a beeping machine, like she needed help just to be alive. Didn't they understand she was the most vibrant and _alive _person who have ever existed?

"Rachel?" he whispered weakly into the air, praying she would answer him. But she didn't. There was only silent, pressing down on his chest like the weight of the world.

"I tried to tell you," the nurse said, her hand resting gently on his shoulder as he stood dumb-struck in the center of the room. "She lost a lot of blood during labor. When the placenta tore away from her uterine wall, a blood clot form inside the womb and when she lost consciousness, it burst. We gave her a few transfusions, which will help, but her body was so exhausted from the premature labor and delivery. She's in a medically induced coma right now. We'll take her off the medication tonight, but she has to wake up on her own."

"She will wake up though, right?" Blaine gulped, his eyes still fixed on the fragile figure he still couldn't convince himself was actually Rachel. "Right?"

"In most cases, they do," she replied. "But everyone is different. She could wake up right away, or it could take awhile longer. We'll just have to wait and see."

"Why did-," Blaine choked on the words, tears rushing to his eyes. "How-? What did we do wrong?"

The nurse looked down sadly before she took him by the arm, leading him to the bench that lined the large window in the room. He sat down heavily, his head falling into his hands as he dug his palms into his eyes, trying to fight the urge to actually cry in front of a stranger, again. "You didn't do anything wrong," she explained quietly, her hand still wrapped around his arm. "These kinds of things, they can just happen for no reason and there's no way to tell. In her case, the placenta around the fetus tore away from the wall. It collapsed and... it's complicated but it essentially suffocated the fetus. It's been dead for a least a few weeks and," she hooked her fingers under his chin, forcing his attention to focus on her, "I want you to listen to me when I tell you this – you could not have known this happened."

He shook his head, but she held firm, her eyes drilling into his. "She could have carried to term if the resulting blood clot hadn't caused her to faint. When she came in and we couldn't find the fetus' heartbeat, that's when we induced labor on her to try and save them both. It is _not _anyone's fault."

"I don't-," he struggled to speak as he gave up holding his tears back. His voice came out in a wavering mess. "Fuck, how do I tell her that? She's going to blame herself. She's going to feel like this was her fault."

"We can provide counseling," the nurse suggested, "for both of you and we have a chapel to provide religious consultations if you're inclined to that. They can help you come up with certain arrangements that may provide a little closure. A memorial or burial even."

"She's Jewish," Blaine said automatically, because at least that made sense to him more than this did. "She'll want a rabbi. I don't... I don't know their customs very well but I don't think you can do an autopsy."

This was just surreal. He was talking about a funeral, like if his father had died or something. But this wasn't like that. This was for his baby, a little girl he would never get to hold her. He would never see if her hair curled like his did in the humid New York summer, or find out if she had Rachel's voice. He would never get to _know her. _And Rachel would never know her. Rachel, who had put her entire life on hold for the chance to have this little girl, to be the mother she never had, and who had put all her faith in Blaine that they would get through this together, no matter how difficult it would be. They had prepared for everything - the inevitable fallout with Kurt, the struggles of supporting three people on their meager incomes, and even learning how to function as a legitimate couple for once - but they had never prepared for the possibility that _this_ would happen. Losing this felt almost like losing everything. He hated to admit that they had needed this to come together again, but they had, and now that she was gone, he was terrified that everything else would be soon."Can I be alone with Rachel?" he pleaded, staring blankly at his feet. "Please? I need to be with her."He needed to hold her, as if to prove to himself that she was still there, that he _wouldn't _lose her. The nurse seemed to understand that even through her hesitation to leave, but finally she nodded and silently pulled a chair close to Rachel's bed and instructed him not to disrupt any of the monitors. As soon as the nurse was out the door, Blaine kicked the chair out of the way and crawled into the bed with Rachel, taking great care to avoid the wires winding out of her skin. His arms wrapped around her waist and the comfort he immediately expected to feel was absent. Her familiar warmth, the one that always washed over him when he held her, now felt so far from him, like it existed in his mind as part of a distant memory. He had wanted to stay with her, to prove to himself that she was still alive, that she was just waiting for him to come find her, but she remained unresponsive."Please wake up Rachel," he whispered, moving to kiss the bridge of her nose. One hand moved from her hip to her hair, carefully threading through the soft curls that framed her still too pale face. "I need you to wake up. I don't know what to do."

He was answered only by the whine of the machines – cold electronic beeps and tuneless hums that only played at being alive. He closed his eyes, trying to find the rhythm of her heartbeat or the quiet sigh of her breathing, anything that would remind him that this was her underneath the gray static; but he heard nothing, felt nothing. It really was like she wasn't there and whatever was left of his heart proceeded to crumble to ash inside his chest, working it's way out of his throat in a wretched sob.

"Come back," he choked, burying his face in her neck as he cried. "Please come back. I can't do this. I need- it's been you and me for so long, through everything. I don't even know how to breathe without you. You can't- you can't just give up, not after this. You have to stay. We have to- please, Rachel, we had a baby, remember? A little girl, our daughter. Yours and mine, ours. And she's- she's already gone. Don't make me bury you too."

There was a quiet rustle and his senses snapped back into place, eyes searching over her still features until he realized that it hadn't come from her. He thought for a moment he might have imagined it; but something else was wrong. He could feel it in the air, in his bones and he hastily wiped his eyes with his sleeve, feeling the cotton rub raw against his already red skin. Looking around the room, it seemed as if nothing had changed until he saw the bouquet of flowers, ribbon unwinding as stems scattered on the floor at a pair of familiar suede boots.

"I got home and no one was there," Kurt said in a dead voice. "I didn't even see your note until this morning. It fell under the coffee table. I would have come sooner."

"Kurt-"

"I guess I should have," he continued in that same voice, not quite looking at either Blaine or Rachel, but Blaine could see the way his jaw tightened as he spoke; the calm before the storm. "It wouldn't have made a difference. Obviously it didn't matter if I was here or not. This still happened."

"I can ex-."

" 'Ours'? " he suddenly yelled, his eyes ablaze with a fury Blaine couldn't deny he had a right too, the word piercing through them both like a white-hot needle. "I really don't think you need to say another fucking word because that just- that pretty much says it all, doesn't it?"

He turned on his heel, storming out of the room and Blaine tripped over his own feet as he ran after Kurt, skidding down the hall. "Kurt, wait! I'm sorry, please just let me explain," he shouted, grunting in pain as his foot slammed against the side of a coke machine, but the vending area had effectively created a kind of dead end and he reached out, his hand on Kurt's shoulder before Kurt pushed him away.

"God, do you know how stupid I look?" Kurt screamed, shoving Blaine again and this time, he fell to the floor, and he couldn't find the will to make himself stand up. He deserved this, to have to look up at the one person he'd hurt most in the world, to feel lower than dirt. "They told me! For years, it's all I've heard. 'Blaine and Rachel are so close. Did anything ever happen between Blaine and Rachel?' and you know what, I knew something had, but neither of you ever told me and I let it go because I said it didn't matter. Because I had you now, because you loved me and I loved you. I trusted you and I made excuses for you and you took it all and stabbed me in the back!"

"I'm sorry!" Blaine cried again, feeling as useless as he knew his words were to Kurt. "I never wanted to hurt-"

"If you finish that sentence, I swear to God," Kurt sputtered, angry tears spilling over and running down his cheek. "Just get out. Get everything of yours out of my apartment and while you're there, pack her shit too because I'm done with both of you."

"No!" Blaine bellowed, scrambling to his feet in a new panic. "You can't do that."

"I can do whatever I want and you can't do a damn thing about it!" Kurt argued, halfway out the door before Blaine managed to cut him off, his hands bunching into the front Kurt's shirt. "Let go of me."

"No, just listen to me," Blaine pleaded, his fingers shaking even as he continued to clutch at Kurt. "I'll leave, okay? I swear I will, but don't do this to her too. She's going to wake up and she's going to have to deal with losing her daughter, with losing you if you cut her off and she won't blame you for it. You know she won't, but where is she supposed to go? I don't even know where I'm going, but please, I am begging you, don't kick her out too. Let her stay, just for awhile until she's okay again. Kurt, please, don't do it for me-."

"Just shut up!" Kurt finally managed to interrupt, prying himself free of Blaine's grasp. "I don't owe either of you anything."

"I know but-."

"I said I would do it!" Kurt groaned, ducking around Blaine and back into the hospital hallway and Blaine nearly sagged in relief; it didn't matter that Kurt hadn't actually said anything before then, it didn't matter that later on this would all hit Blaine in the chest like a freight train. His entire life for the past six years and irreparably been broken down in the matter of a few hours and he didn't know how he would deal with that. But at least, in some way, he had taken care of Rachel while he still could.

"Thank you," he sighed.

"Don't thank me yet," Kurt muttered as he headed back towards Rachel's room. "I'll stay with her until visiting hours are over and then I'm going to stay with Eli. I'm giving you 24 hours to pack. I don't care where you go, I don't even want to know. Anything that's left tomorrow, I'm burning and then I never want to see your face again. You ruined us. This is your fault."

-:-

He didn't want to leave the hospital, but Kurt wouldn't even stay in the same room with him; Blaine was starting to feel like he might break down again, have another fit or whatever it was that the nurses had sedated him for, and though every step he took away from Rachel felt worse than the last, he knew he had to get away, if only for a little whle. He walked the 32 blocks all the way back to his apartment, the home he'd made and lost, and it was almost impossible for him to turn the doorknob, knowing this would be the last time he did so.

Kurt was right, he had ruined them. Any hope he had – and it had been a feeble hope at best – of keeping Kurt in his life after his history with Rachel came out, it disappeared the instant Kurt heard the truth. And it hurt, just as much as anything else in his life had ever hurt because as much as he loved Rachel, he had loved Kurt. It had been an impossible line to tread, and he'd never done well at it, but he didn't spend his time with Kurt waiting for Rachel. He had been his first real love, the first person to ever believe in him, to love him back in the same way. They had tied themselves to each other in more ways that Blaine could have ever imagined was possible to do with a person. There was a time in his life – a few times actually – when Blaine believed he would want nothing more than Kurt Hummel.

But they fell apart, drifted away, and though they found each other again, there had been one piece they had never gotten back. And it got bigger over time, chipped away more pieces. It wasn't any one person's fault; and even though he had fallen in love with Kurt all over again, it wasn't enough. It hadn't been for a long time. But finally losing it all, no matter how inevitable he had known it to be, was enough to make him want to crawl into a dark corner and sleep for days where nightmares would be better than his reality.

It took him a few hours before he even started trying to pack, trying to shake the numbness off as he threw shirts and jeans and sweaters into the biggest suitcase he could find, wondering how he was going to carry all of his music equipment by himself through New York City. Anything that didn't mean he had to think about why he was doing all this, just enough that he had something to focus on. Eventually he broke down, called around for help, finally reaching Marco who promptly shut down the bar even though it was barely six o'clock at night.

"I got your back, kid," he said, which caused Blaine to spend another fifteen minutes willing himself not to cry again. Together the two of them managed to get everything Blaine decided he couldn't live without boxed and bagged up as Blaine somehow managed to choke out the whole story, only breaking down once when Marco squeezed his shoulder after Blaine told him about the baby. He appreciated that about Marco, that he didn't ask for details or judge him; he knew Blaine knew he had screwed up. He didn't feel the need to rub it in.

"I'm going to start dragging this down to the bar," Marco said after a few hours, grabbing the handle of the trolley cart piled with Blaine's belongings. "I've got some space in the storage closet you can keep this. What doesn't fit, you can put in my spare room."

"What?" Blaine asked dumbfounded.

"You got molasses in there?" Marco remarked, thumbing his knuckle against Blaine's forehead. "You need a place to stay."

"Marco I can't-."

"You will," he shrugged, already halfway out the door, rolling the trolling behind him. "Where else are you gonna do? Loft is above the bar, use the key to get in."

"You don't have to do this," Blaine called after him.

"I know!" he shouted back as he continued out of sight. If he weren't so exhausted, Blaine might have actually have smiled; it was the smallest of all things, that Marco would take him on without so much as a simple question, and even though his tired mind couldn't properly understand why, it meant everything at that moment.

It was well after midnight when Blaine finished cleaning – it was the least he could do for Kurt – and part of him wanted to give into his aching body and fall asleep in his bed one last time, but it didn't feel right. This place already felt like he didn't belong there, like he had scrubbed himself out of it, and as tired as he was, he knew he had to grab the rest of his bags and trudge his way to Marco's. He wondered how long it would take for it to feel like that was home. He wondered if anything would ever feel that way again. Especially if...

He'd tried not to think about it all night, but it was staring him in the face. No distractions left; he fished his phone out of his pocket – no missed messages, voice or text – and he dialed the hospital. If something that happened, Kurt would have told him, right? His heart was beating out of his chest as the receptionist picked up and transferred him to where Rachel was staying. But try as he might, he couldn't get anyone to tell him about her over the phone, claiming that because he wasn't strictly family, they couldn't release that kind of information to him. It didn't matter that he'd come in with her, spent every moment until that afternoon by her side. He didn't matter.

"There's no change," came a whisper from behind him and when he turned, it was very nearly an identical picture to the one Kurt had presented at the hospital. Standing in the doorway, his arms at his sides, staring off in the distance as if he could only speak if he wasn't looking at Blaine. "Her vitals were good when I left."

"I- thank you," Blaine sighed, throwing a bag over his shoulder before he leaned down to pick up his last one. "I'm leaving now, don't worry. You don't have to stay anywhere else tonight."

"Eli had company over," Kurt said with a nod. "I decided I didn't want to be around people."

"Yeah," Blaine agreed. "I understand." A silence settled over them, so heavy Blaine didn't know how Kurt could stand it. It was dark and sad and angry; everything he never wanted. But this wasn't in his control anymore, if it had ever been. The only thing he could do now was whatever Kurt wanted from him. "I'll just-."

"How long?"

Blaine stopped dead in his tracks, his back turned; he wasn't surprised Kurt was asking, just that he was asking now. But he had a right to know, and if he could stand it, Blaine would tell him everything like he'd wanted to months ago. Like he should have years ago. "Since I moved to the city," Blaine answered, "but not always. We were... we were a secret for a few months my freshman year, but we called it off. And then Christmas came and you- I was starting to fall for you again, but I wasn't over her."

"So the last six years together, I was just your second-best to Rachel Berry?"

"No," Blaine whirled around, his palms cupping Kurt's face before he could stop himself, but Kurt didn't pull away. He didn't lean in or respond in anyway, but he didn't fight him this time. "I fell in love with you again Kurt. I truly did. You are the most wonderful, amazing, man I have ever known and I will regret every day for the rest of my life what I did to you. But Rachel, she- there's just something- I love her the way I wanted to love you and I'm sorry that hurts you. But please, believe me when I say I was never not in love with you."

"How can you say that when you cheated on me for six years?" Kurt's voice shook, tears flowing between Blaine's fingers and he could feel the tremble in Kurt's jaw.

"I didn't!" Blaine exclaimed, pressing his forehead against Kurt's. "I know this doesn't make it better, because it shouldn't have happened at all, but there was only one time that Rachel and I were together when I was with you. It was right after Jesse left, do you remember?"

"She stopped talking to you," he murmured, almost reverently, a light of realization in his eyes.

"Then she came back and she was pregnant," Blaine said with a stuttering breath, "and I swear on my life, I wanted to tell you then. I almost did but I'm a coward. I wasn't ready to lose you. I fucked up and you- you have to pay the price for that and I'm just so sorry Kurt."

"Anything you could have chosen to do, anything that wasn't this," Kurt said, and it was so sad that Blaine couldn't hold back his own tears anymore, "it would have hurt less. It would have made more sense; I could have- I don't know what I could have done, but it wouldn't have felt as bad as this. I feel like I'm dying and you- you're going to be okay when this over because you'll have Rachel. What will I have? You're all I ever wanted."

Maybe it was just years of ingrained instincts, maybe it was just because he knew Kurt needed it, or maybe it was because Blaine really was nothing more than a selfish bastard, but he flung himself around Kurt, his arms clinging to his back as he let Kurt fall into his arms. It was cruel, for both of them, but he couldn't bring himself to let go. It was just Kurt's hand around his neck, his breath buried in his skin, and it was familiar, a last glimpse at a life he'd known and shared with someone he was never quite sure he deserved.

Their lips met in a bruise, harsh and needy and desperate, but it was like nothing they had ever shared before. Because this wasn't something they would have again, or would ever admit had ever really happened. It would scar, a wound deep enough to last a lifetime, but it was necessary, he knew that much. There would be no going forward with this; it was simply an ending. It was goodbye.

It was Kurt who pulled away, because Blaine wouldn't deny him that final moment, and he licked his bottom lip before stepping out of Blaine's grasp. "I want you to leave now," he insisted. "Rachel can still stay here but don't call, don't come over. I need you to not be around."

"Okay," was all Blaine could say.

-:-

_**RACHEL  
><strong>_It was raining again; it had been for nearly two weeks. She didn't mind. In fact, if she could feel anything, she would have appreciated the fact that the weather seemed to be just as depressed as she was. Everything was cold and gray, the colors of the city completely washed out. Just like her, she thought with a sigh as she curled up on the window seat, leaning her head against the frigid glass. She was shivering, she knew, but not even that mattered to her because the one person that could have chased away the chill, wrap his arms around her shoulders and hold her tight, was more than 3,000 miles away in New York, waiting for her to come home.

Her heart ached whenever she thought of Blaine, imagining the look on his face when he realized she had gone. Waking up in the hospital, finding out that her little girl had been dead inside her womb for two months, that Kurt knew about her affair with his boyfriend, that Blaine was suffering so much because of her – she couldn't take it. She cried until her body gave out, and then she would sleep for days. She wouldn't eat to the point that the nurses had her hooked up to an IV of fluids just to make sure she received enough nutrients to get her through the day. They tossed around words like "severe postpartum depression" and "clinical nervous breakdown" and she supposed it made them feel better to have a name for what was happening to her, but it only seemed to make things worse in her mind. They couldn't possibly understand how much it pained her to sit there, knowing this was her fault, this was punishment for her sins, and still let Blaine hold her hand; a comfort she didn't deserve.

The night she ran, she had been scheduled to be released from the hospital the next morning, where she was expected to return to the apartment and forget she had ever been friends with Kurt, that he had ever meant anything to her. They couldn't be friends, he'd told her, and she could feel it in her bones that they probably never would be again and if by some miracle they managed to get past this, it would never be the same. Just as things between her and Blaine could never be the same, no matter how hard they tried; and the sad truth was, she wasn't inclined to try anymore. It hurt too much and they lost too much to keep going on like this. She had to end it, for good, and she knew he wouldn't let her. So instead of waiting for morning to come, she pulled herself together long enough to demand she be released immediately. She signed the papers, let the hospital call her a cab, and she rode that cab straight to La Guardia. Nearly $1,200 later – a surprising small hole in the savings she had managed to acquire since moving to New York – she was tucked into the back corner of a plane pointed straight to London.

Jesse had picked her up, no questions asked. He helped her settle into his guest bedroom and took her around to buy a little bit of everything since she had neglected to pack. He made dinner that night and forced her to eat; and for the last two weeks, that's what life had been like for her. Jesse left her to her own devices, seeming to understand that she needed to be alone, and would only crop up to bring her food, sitting by her until she ate it. He took care of her, and she was as grateful as she could be while still feeling absolutely numb.

She sighed again, watching her breath fog up the glass. Two weeks and she was still no better than when she started. She couldn't talk to Blaine, had only sent him one email - _"I'm sorry. I don't know if I'm coming back. Don't waste your life on me anymore" - _and he responded by messaging her every day. She'd made the mistake of reading the first one and it felt like dying all over again as she read his words to her; words of love and worry, of pain and heartache, of need, hope. And every day he would send her another one and every day she would let it sit in her message box, glaring at her accusingly until she read it. But she never did. For all she knew, he could have progressed to hating her as much as she hated herself, but she still wouldn't read them.

A warm weight settled on her shoulders suddenly and she looked up at Jesse curiously as he draped a blanket around her still trembling body. "You're cold," he said, sitting on the opposite side of the cushion, eyes boring into hers.

"I didn't notice," Rachel said, even as she tugged the blanket closer around her.

"I know," he replied solemnly, "and that's the problem. You don't notice anything anymore."

She couldn't do anything but shrug, turning back to stare out the window, tracing the raindrops as they raced down the glass pane, wondering exactly how long it would take for them to go crashing against the bottom like she had. But she didn't get to find out as Jesse stood up, his hand around her arm and he pulled her off the cushion, the blanket falling to her feet. She tried to protest, wrench her arms free from his grasp, but he only held on tighter as he made his way to the back door, pushing her through. The frigid air hit her in the face, almost like an electric shock, but Jesse didn't let her just stand on the porch. Instead he dragged her down the stairs, out into the tiny little garden, out into the freezing, blasting rain.

"What are you doing?" she yelled, trying to run around him and back into the house, but he blocked her path no matter which way she went. "Jesse this isn't funny!"

"You want to be cold," he shouted back at her, his hands digging into the flesh of her arms, "then be cold out here because this is all you are right now."

"I don't even know what that means!" Rachel insisted, trying to blink the rain out of her eyes.

"It means you need to wake up Rachel!" Jesse paused to take a deep breath, something he only did when he felt like whatever he needed to say was truly important. He was usually so impulsive, would speak without really thinking and he never apologized for his honesty. But every now and then, he would stop and he would carefully pick his words before saying them. And he was doing this now, for her, and that realization was enough to make her stop fighting him. "Your baby is dead," he finally said and she wanted to slap him; of all the things he could have decided to say, it was this? "She's dead and she's not coming back and I'm sorry this happened to you. But that's the thing, it happened _to _you, not because of you. No one could have predicted this, but you're acting like this is somehow your fault. You're hurt, and you have every reason to be, but you're hurting every one you ever loved by acting this way."

"Blaine is better-."

"I'm not just talking about Blaine," he shook his head, drops of water falling from the ends of his hair. "I'm talking about your family. Your dads keep calling me, checking up on you. Hudson wanted to know how much a plane ticket was. Even Kurt emailed me, asking if you were safe. And that bartender guy, Marco, he said to tell you he's looking after Blaine for you because he's a wreck, Rachel.

"I let you stay here," he continued, "because I thought it would help you. I thought if you could just get away, put some distance between you and your life for a few days, you'd be able to move on better than you could when it was surrounding you. But you've gotten worse. You don't even... you act like you don't care, but you do, and it's killing you inside."

"I can't care," she whispered, clutching at her stomach, her dress completely soaked through. "Don't you get it? Nothing good has ever come out of me caring. I ruined Kurt's life with my caring. I hurt Blaine because I cared too much to let him go. I even lost you because of my caring."

"You never lost me," Jesse argued, "and you must have known that since I was the one you ran to."

"It doesn't matter," she said stubbornly. "It can't matter."

"It has to matter," he countered, "because if you let this defeat you, then everything that happened was all for nothing and that is worse than just being a little selfish. That is cruel."

"You're calling me cruel?" she choked

"No," he replied, "not yet. But if you don't get up and fight for what you want, even if it is painful, then I will. Because what was the point if you don't?"

"The point of what, exactly?"

"If you don't know that," Jesse sighed, "then you're further gone that I thought. " He released his grasp on her as his shoulders slumped. He looked weary, as if he hadn't slept in weeks and it occurred to her that maybe he hadn't. Maybe he had been looking after her in more ways than just making sure she ate. He had stayed up, worried, spoken to people she should have been speaking to, trying to keep her alive while she made no effort. "Figure it out Rachel," he demanded of her as he turned to walk back into the house, leaving her alone in the rain.

-:-

Days later, she couldn't get Jesse's words out of her head. They were the first thing she heard when she woke up, and they kept her awake at night, though considering she had slept more the past few weeks than she had in her entire life, it probably wasn't a bad thing. It was however, annoying, because she didn't want to spend all her time thinking about what she had to "figure out". She just wanted to stop, to make everything go away, but she couldn't do that with Jesse hovering over with a big question mark, mocking her. She was irritated, a bit angry, but more than that, she realized, she had somehow been energized by him.

Which had probably been his whole point.

"Okay," she said one morning over her oatmeal, "you win. I'm a mess and I need to snap out of it."

"And how are you going to do that?" he said with a smirk, though she could see in his eyes that he was still hesitant to really trust her.

"I don't know," she admitted, "but you started this, so you're going to help me."

Jesse laughed at that, finishing the rest of his coffee and rinsing out her bowl in the sink. "How did I know you would drag me into this?" He said it with a smile and, remarkably, she could feel the corners of her own lips twitching into what probably the world's tiniest grin. "Alright Berry, we'll start with getting you out of the house. I have a show tonight. You're coming."

Her stomach did a little flip and she immediately began to question if this had been a good idea, trying to force herself out of this shell she crawled into just to prove a point to Jesse, but he was looking at her as if he'd issued her a challenge he didn't expect her to accept. So she steeled her nerves and nodded; Jesse beamed, and the small voice inside of her that was whispering she could always back out was immediately shut out. He promised to send a cab to pick her up around six and he'd leave a ticket in her name at the booth. He actually thanked her, a strange mixture of relief and excitement, and then, before he left for the day, he kissed her on the cheek. It was just a friendly gesture, one she'd given and received so many times in her life that she almost forgot what it felt like. The warmth and the comfort; it was almost overwhelming.

It shouldn't have shaken her as much as it did, but instead of letting it take her over, she used it to her advantage. It was her reminder that someone was counting on her. It's what made her get in the shower and wash the slight layer of grease that had formed in her hair, what made her go out on her own to the corner store and buy a facial mask to cleanse her pores. She actually went through her entire nightly routine, down to the ice bath, until it was mid-afternoon, and she had to admit, she felt good. It was the best she'd felt since she those blessed few months she'd spent with Blaine, pregnant and in New York. And even though the realization threatened to drag her under, she was determined to get through just one day, if not for her, for Jesse.

But the thing was, as she searched through her meager clothing for the simple black cotton dress Jesse had purchased for her, she felt new. Her hair was shining, her eyes were bright, and even though she wasn't instantly better, she at least looked the part. It reminded her of who she was, at least who a little part of who she was. She was an actress. She could put on the clothes and the make-up and she could become anyone she wanted to be. Right now, she just wanted to be Rachel; she wasn't quite there yet, but she could pretend. She could try.

She was waiting on the porch when the cab pulled up, afraid that if she waited for the driver to come to the door and knock, she wouldn't answer. Jesse had already given him the address and paid the far in advance, so the ride was entirely silent all the way to the theater. Rachel wasn't paying much attention as she picked up her ticket and found her seat in the orchestra section. They were premium seats and she wondered how much money he had spent to guarantee her a ticket like this at the last minute, especially since more and more people were filing it and it was clearly a sold-out production. All the people milling around made her feel claustrophic and she was frustrated with that; she was Rachel Berry. She didn't shy from crowds. She wanted to be in the center of them.

She distracted herself by looking at her program, letting out a little gasp as she looked at the familiar white mask on the front of the cover and the romantic scrawl that spelled out _The Phantom of the Opera. _She hadn't realized that this was the show Jesse had been working on. Had he ever mentioned it to her? Had she just not paid attention? Was she really this out of touch with what was going on around her? She looked through the cast billing, starting in the choreographers and working her way up, looking for Jesse's name and a hand flew to her mouth once she found it, her eyes welling with tears and an incredible sense of pride.

_Debuting: Jesse St. James as The Phantom of the Opera_

She wanted to find him, to throw her arms around him and tell him over and over how proud she was of him, how amazing she knew he would be, how he deserved this so much. But the lights dimmed and the show started before she could even stand up. The entire exposition was like torture for her, as she waited and waited to see him. She cried when she heard his voice for the first time and she was sure she was driving the people seated next to her crazy, but she couldn't hold herself back from applauding loudly after his first scene with the little slight of a girl playing Christine.

He was breathtaking, the most perfect Phantom she had ever seen and watching him thoroughly become this iconic character, knowing how hard he must have worked to prove himself ready for this, she felt like he was somehow bring her back to life. He was taking her by the hand, leading her down the dark corridor and secret passages, reminding her through song and music who she had been, who she could still be. It was rejuvenating, exhilarating, and everything she needed to pick herself up. It wouldn't be easy, and she knew this feeling would be fleeting, but as long as she could hold onto even a little bit of it, she would make it through.

She couldn't stop crying when she met him backstage, clinging to him to the point that he had to carry her over to a couch just so he wasn't having to hold her up on his own. "Thank you," she kept saying, trying to put into words exactly what he had done for her. "You were outstanding. You were perfect. I needed this so much, Thank you. So much."

"I didn't do anything you need to thank me for," Jesse chuckled, his hands soothing through her hair.

"You did!" she insisted. "You may have just saved my life, I swear to you."

"I didn't save your life," he said kindly, cupping her tear-stained cheeks. "I just reminded you that there's still a life out there, that it's yours, but you have to take it."

"Thank you," she cried again, burrowing into his neck. "Jesse, thank you."

-:-

"I would have been a terrible mother," she said to Jesse out of the blue three days after his debut as the Phantom. She had been in London almost three weeks now and, except for that brief mention when he had yelled at her in the rain, she had avoided this subject as much as possible. She still didn't even want to acknowledge it, but if she was ever going to accept the baby she has lost, she had to do what she always did, and that was talk about what was bothering her, even if it only upset her more.

Jesse looked at her sadly, shaking his head. "No," he assured her, "you would have been a great mother. A little crazy, but you've always been that way. That kid would have been lucky to have you."

"I try not to think about it," she whispered, her voice already shaking as she stared at her hands. "I can't understand how I could just go to sleep one day and wake up the next without her. This baby, this little thing that I carried around with me and somehow had fallen in love with without even seeing her yet, she was just gone. She had been gone for a long time and I just... didn't know. How could I have not known something like that?"

"No one could have predicted this," Jesse said calmly, as if that was meant to make her feel better. It didn't, it just made her angrier because he clearly didn't understand either. She wasn't trying to say she could have stopped it, or changed it somehow. That wasn't nearly as important.

"I should have known!" she screeched, her voice cracking as she became more and more frantic. "I should have felt it when it happened. I should have felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest or like I had forgotten how to breathe, or something! But I felt nothing!. She was counting on me to be there, to protect her and I failed her. I let this horrible thing happen to her and I didn't do a damn thing to stop it."

"What would you have done?" Jesse asked, still as calm as he had been before. "How could you have fixed this if you had known?"

Rachel blanched, throwing her hands up in the air, exclaiming, "that's not the point!"

"It is the point!" he finally yelled, slamming his fist on the table between them. "You couldn't have done anything. This was so far out of your control and nothing you think you could have done would have made a difference. It wouldn't have prevented this."

"A mother should know, right?" she repeated, shaking her head as if that would make Jesse agree with her. "They're always talking about the mother who woke up in the middle of the night because she knew her child was in trouble. I didn't do that. I don't even know when it happened and I know I'm capable of having that, because when you love someone, you have to feel that. Because even 3,000 miles away, I can feel Blaine's heart breaking. Why couldn't I feel that with my own daughter?"

"You feel Blaine's heart breaking because yours is too," he stated like it was a fact; and really, she knew it was. This was why being numb was easier for her; she didn't have to face these things if she didn't feel them and once she started letting it all back in, she couldn't stop it. "You have attached yourself to Blaine in ways that I don't think even you understand. It's powerful. It's... quite frankly, it's maddening. And when you try to take yourself out of that, it hurts you. It hurts him."

"I hurt him anyway," she sighed feebly.

"You love him anyway," he corrected her. "There's not a single other reason why he would come back to you over and over again if you didn't love him and he didn't love you. The rest of us, Kurt and I especially, we never stood a chance."

"That doesn't mean-."

"Don't be stupid Rachel," he snapped at her, chair scraping noisily across the linoleum. "It means everything. What happened with your baby wasn't your fault, but if you use this as an excuse to run away from the only thing worth having in life, then that _will_ be your fault."

-:-

She wasn't sure why she had decided to do this. It was late, after four in the morning, and she hadn't yet gone to sleep. All she could think about was, come Saturday, she would have been in London for a month. She appreciated what Jesse had done for her – given her a place to stay, a means of escape even as he pushed her back on her feet – and she found that once it stopped raining, she really did love London and she could understand exactly why Jesse had thrived here. He truly had found everything he had been searching for; his real dream had come back to him, he was respected in the British theater business even as an American, and amongst all that, she was surprised to learn, he had fallen in love again. He was actually engaged to the actress who played Christine opposite of his Phantom, finally introducing her at a cast dinner.

She was happy for him. He deserved it, but she couldn't help the melancholy that crept over her. Watching Jesse with his fiance, seeing how at peace he was everything, especially knowing all that he'd gone through to get there. He had run away to London once before, but he'd made this his home. This was where he belonged and she could see that now. She wanted to be like him, to start over in some strange new world but she knew it would never work for her; because if he belonged there, she belonged in New York. She'd always found her strength in that city, in what it had done for her, in her dreams, and in the people she loved.

She took a deep breath and switched on Jesse's computer, logging into her email. 44 unread messages, some spam, two from her dads, a couple of concerned former castmates, and 30 from Blaine. Those were the ones that she was detemined to read. It didn't matter that she was already a little choked up to see that he never gave up on her, that he still sat down to write her. She would read every word. She owed him that.

Some were short, just long enough to say he missed her, and others were longer, telling her about how he had tried to start going back to classes but he couldn't concentrate. Some were were obviously written drunk and he would lash out at her, asking how she could just abandon him to deal with this, that he was just as hurt as she was, that he needed her to come back to him. The ones that came after ones like that seemed to hurt the most as he apologized, saying he didn't mean it, that he loved her and he could understood why she had run away. He wanted to run too, he just didn't have anywhere to go. One asked if they could just run away together, if that would make things better?

But it was his last one, the one she'd received from him around noon that day, was the one that crumbled all her resolve and she sat sobbing quietly at the computer, reading his words until she was sure she had memorized them, that they were etched into her skin.

"_Rachel, I don't even know if you're reading these anymore. I wouldn't if I were you. There's nothing I can say to you that I haven't said before, but that doesn't make them any less true. I love you. I miss you. I hate waking up and knowing that you're not there. I hate knowing when I can see you next. _

_But I know you need time. And I realize now that I need time myself. It'd be easier if you were here, but I can't ask you to come home anymore until you're ready. So I want to be ready for you. I want to be stronger, a better person. Someone who isn't confused, or lying to himself about what he wants. I have to be right for you and I have to be right for me. Even if we can never work this out, even if you never feel the same way about me._

_I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you. I don't want you to feel like I have expectations. I do, and that's probably wrong of me. But that's something I have to deal with, not you. And that's why this is my last email to you. I just wanted you to know, so that if you are reading these still, you didn't think I just decided to ignore you. I'm always thinking about you. I'm always loving you. That will never change._

_Love, Blaine."_

She didn't go to sleep, instead stayed up and watch the sunrise with a cup of hot chocolate. She couldn't bring herself to email him back; she didn't know what she would have said back after that. This was his way of letting her go and the strangest thing was, now that she was free, all she wanted was to find her way back into his arms. She wanted to go home.

"You're up early," Jesse yawned as he stumbled into the kitchen, pouring the rest of the hot chocolate into a mug and heating it up.

"I never slept," she admitted with a slight shrug. "I've been up all night thinking."

"Another downward spiral?" he said teasingly and she stuck her tongue out at him, laughing at his obvious surprise.

"An upward one actually," she said lightly. "You won't be surprised to hear I cried, but I think it actually did me good this time. I had a revelation."

"Intriguing," he muttered, motioning for her to continue and suddenly she was nervous. Because as soon as she said the words out loud, there would be no backing down. She would have to follow through with it and part of her doubted that she could. But that didn't change the fact that she needed this, more than Jesse and London, more than anything else in the world.

"I have to go back," she said quietly, "don't I?"

Jesse's eyes widened and lit up with approval. "I think it's time," he nodded, sitting in the chair next to her before pulling her into his lap. "I'm going to miss you but your life isn't here. It never has been."

"What if I get there and everything goes wrong again?"

"It won't," he promised as she leaned against his shoulder. "And if it does, you'll just face it down this time. You won't run away, you won't let it beat you. You'll be Rachel Berry and demand things go your way. But," he said gently, pulling away from her until she could look him in the eye, "if that still doesn't work, I want you to know, you can always run back to me."

She laughed, squeezing his neck until he protested he couldn't breathe. "I love you Jesse," she giggled, kissing his forehead before bounding off his lap and heading for the room she'd made her own. "Now come help me pack."

-:-

_=:= three months later =:=_

Coming back to New York had been the best thing for her, she knew that now. She was surprised at how easily she was able to slip back into her skin once she was back in the middle of Times Square, looking out over Broadway. She'd stood there once, as a junior in high school, exclaiming that she had "made it" with such excitement. She felt that now, but it was calmer somehow. This was peace, this city and it's lights. This was home.

Well nearly. She had called Blaine, his voice wary and hesitant as he answered the phone as if he didn't quite believe it was actually her calling, and asked him to meet her at the top of the red stairs, even though it would be packed with tourists. He was there in less than ten minutes, his cheeks flushed as if he had run the entire way and she didn't have a chance to say a word before he swept her up into his arms, his hands tangling in her hair as he whispered her name repeatedly until his voice cracked and she realized he was actually crying.

They talked all night, sitting on the steps until security closed them down and they had to move to the street, sitting on the concrete for hours. He surprised her by being the one to say he wasn't ready to jump into anything with her again, that he had meant it when he realized he needed the space to heal. She almost cried herself, because part of her knew he was saying this for her sake, and the other part was just so grateful that she didn't have to be the one to put that kind of distance between them again.

They still saw each other as friends but not nearly as often as they were used to. He threw himself into finally finishing his last semester of his masters degree, though he already had offers from both major and independent labels to work for them as a producer. She occupied herself with rejoining the ranks of theater, going to every audition she could find, and being welcomed back by anyone who recognized her. It felt good, finding her footing again, finding her voice. It made her stronger.

But right now, she was panicking again. She had known this would happen. It was getting harder to say goodbye to Blaine at the end of the night when they would have dinner or meet for coffee, and if she was feeling it, she knew he had to be feeling it too. She shouldn't have been so shocked when he asked her out, officially, on a real date. Her first instinct had been to say no, and that's what she did. He just smiled, shook his head, and asked if she wanted more tea. It was the fact that he just let it go so easily that convinced her, she thought. Because suddenly, there was no pressure on it. She _could _say no and he would leave it at that, and more that that, she could say yes and it would mean the same thing.

It wasn't the same thing though. The more she thought about it, the more she understood this was a pivotal moment for them. They had tried keeping each other at arm's length, but they had broken down those walls without even trying and if they were going to do this again, fall into each other despite their terrible history, she had to know that it would actually mean something to him too. She couldn't go though this again otherwise.

She held her breath as she knocked on his door three hours too early, already made up for their date. He answered with a toothbrush dangling from his mouth, and his eyes widened with worry when he saw her. "Rachel!" he sputtered, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "I thought we were meeting-"

"We were," she said quickly, stepping into the apartment before he could actually invite him in. Her urgency seemed to put him on edge. His eyebrows furrowed together, his jaw set in a hard line, and she could see his mind trying to work out why she was there so early. She knew she should say something instead of letting him suffer in silence, but her own thoughts were reeling so quickly, she didn't know which to think first.

"You're canceling on me," he finally said.

"I'm not," she replied gently, with a shake of her hair.

Blaine swallowed so hard she could actually see the lump in his throat as he sat down on the tattered couch, slumping in his seat and looking helpless down at his hands. "Now I'm really scared," he tried to joke, but any trace of humor was lost in his sad voice.

"I am too," she confessed, sitting down on the opposite end. "I'm terrified actually."

"Of me?"

"Of us," Rachel affirmed. "Blaine we've spent seven years making this as hard as it could possibly be and I'm afraid of accidentally going back to that. But more than that, I'm afraid of not having you in my life. This year has been the worst year of my life, but when I look back on it in all the good parts... they were all with you."

He looked up at her, hope flooding into his eyes, and it was like seeing him as he had been all those years ago when he first moved to New York. Young and strong, open and willing to fall in love despite the pain in his past. It was the way he looked at her their first day together, when they'd spent all day in her apartment learning each other's bodies and souls. She had known on that day that something profound had started and now, for the first time, she could truly appreciate what it had been. It was a struggle, it was fighting, but it was pure and warm and it was theirs. It was a love that would last for both their lifetimes, no matter what the end result would actually be.

"I don't want to pretend like I'm not in love with you," she said, her voice unwavering as she moved closer to him, taking his hand in her own and holding it to her heart. "It's killing me, trying to deny this. I love you Blaine, and I need you. But I have to know that you're with me on this. Because if it's just me that's in this deep, you have to let me walk away now."

He didn't say anything at first, just gazed at her as his free hand traced the curve of her cheek; then he leaned forward, his lips brushing against hers as softly as she could ever remember him kissing her. It was like a feather, a whisper, just a passing moment, but she felt it down to her core. And then he closed his eyes, smiled, and his forehead rested against hers.

"It's not just you," he finally whispered, his grip tightening around her hand. "It's never been just you." That was all she needed to hear. All she needed to know.

They could do this now.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> I am so so so very sorry it has taken me so long to write this chapter, especially after I left it on such a big cliffhanger. I don't really have an excuse, other than life and school. So this is my crappy apology and my hope that you enjoyed this chapter as much as you've enjoyed the rest of the story_  
><em>

In other news, the next chapter will be the epilogue, and then that'll be it; we'll be done.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**EPILOGUE**

_=:= one year later =:=_

_**KURT  
><strong>_New York never seemed to change, no matter how long he had been gone from it. It was always moving and bright, welcoming him back as if he'd never left. The winding streets of Los Angeles would never feel as right as the walk from Broadway to Central Park, where there was always room for him, no matter how crowded it could be. There was always a bench, or a patch of grass, or a small mountain of rock waiting for him. It wasn't like that in LA, where he still felt grossly out of place despite having lived there for nearly ten months. People made no sense to him there, lacked a certain finesse that he missed from the people in New York, and his job as an assistant director wasn't nearly as fulfilling when his biggest contribution to the "art" of the film was if the explosion went high enough.

A warm breeze ruffled through his hair and Kurt let himself smile as he stretched out on the grass near the carousel. He had tried to fight it, had come up with so many excuses. It was too good an opportunity to waste, that he was being handed something people spend their whole lives dreaming about. He wanted the experience, and once he found his feet, he would love it. He needed the distance after what Blaine had done to him, he deserved the distance. A thousand and one reasons not to go back to New York, and they didn't hold a match to the one reason that kept calling at his heart. This was where he belonged. This was home and no one, not even himself, should be allowed to take that from him.

Still, coming back was the hardest part. It felt a little too much like defeat, like he was giving up or admitting that it was _okay_. It wasn't okay; he wasn't sure it would ever be _okay. _It would hurt like hell for the rest of his life every time he thought about the way Blaine had betrayed him, how Rachel had lied to him. There were nights when he still cried, wondering how things might have been different if he'd just confronted Blaine about his feelings for her, had voiced his suspicions. They weren't as discreet as they liked to pretend, but Kurt had been too good at ignoring it. If Blaine felt like he could have been honest, if Kurt would have listened to him, maybe they would have made it to the end, like they always said they would.

The worst part was that he'd never know.

But something could be said for the adage that time heals all wounds. He wasn't healed, not by a long shot, but the sting was less debilitating and the days he was sure he could never get out of bed again were further and further apart. Hearing their names in any context didn't anger him as quickly, and it had only taken him a week instead of three months this time to read Rachel's letter. He had expected it, of course, as soon as he heard the news from Finn who heard it from Quinn, but he never responded to anyone when they asked if he was going.

He hadn't even properly decided yet, despite having taken a plane across the country, her letter and its contents stuck in his jacket's breast pocket. The only thing he was absolutely sure of was that he would be moving back to the city. The rest of it, who he decided his friends would be and who he could trust to be in his life, he didn't know; only that he was in the best place to make those kinds of decisions.

The air shifted around him and Kurt didn't even have to turn his head to know that someone had sat down next to him, his legs crossed and one hand rubbing the back of his neck and through hair that always hinted at wild, dark curls. He still dreamed about those hazel eyes sometimes, shining golden in the right light with a secret smile. He could still picture the way his lips moved, quirking just slightly in the corners. "Hey stranger," he said, voice full of a sense of caution Kurt hadn't heard since their time at Dalton.

"Blaine," Kurt said, his name coming out in a sigh. "How did you know I would be here?"

"Despite what happened, I like to think I know a few things about you," he replied, a wry grin twisting his face almost into a grimace, and Kurt could almost hear him trying to thing of all the different ways he could have said that instead. He could sense the doubt, the uncertainty, and Kurt nearly laughed out loud at the instinct he still had to reassure him; because even now, it was hard to think of something worse than Blaine Anderson frowning.

"I suppose that's true," Kurt said with a small smile, a little chuckle escaping him despite his better judgment. "I really meant, how did you know you could find me here? I didn't tell anyone I was in town."

Blaine sighed a little, enough to make Kurt look over at him for the first time; he noticed Blaine wasn't looking at him, staring resolutely into the distance the way he did when faced with something difficult, creating a safe distance where it didn't feel as intimidating. "I saw you at La Guardia," Blaine finally said, scratching at the light stubble lining his jaw – Kurt wondered when he stopped going clean-shaven, if it was before or after he completely forgot about gel products – and pushed a bunch of curls away from his forehead. "I was picking up Cooper and I saw you come down the tunnel for baggage claim. Did you know you were on the same flight as him?"

Kurt hated to admit it, but his breath caught in his throat as Blaine's neck craned around and his bright eyes finally found his own. They were still so much more beautiful than in his dreams and he was certain that all the pain in the world would never change that. "I didn't see him," Kurt admitted quietly, trying to remind himself that the stars in Blaine's eyes weren't for him anymore. "I was in first class."

"Please don't tell Cooper that," Blaine laughed openly, his head falling against his chest in mirth. "He was all the way in the back, on the very last row in the middle seat and hasn't stopped complaining about it for three days."

"I guess they didn't think he was serious. He must not have pointed at them enough," Kurt quipped, smiling as Blaine began to chuckle even more. "So you've just been coming around for the last three days hoping to see me again?"

"Basically," Blaine shrugged as if the sudden change in conversation didn't bother him; perhaps it didn't, perhaps he had counted on it. "I wanted to talk to you at the airport. I've wanted to talk to you for as long as you've been gone actually. And I practiced it, you know. I thought about what I would say if I ever got to see you again and I thought I had it down. Until I actually saw you and then I just forgot.. everything."

"If it's an apology, or an explanation," Kurt said by way of interruption, raising his hand as if to ward that very thing away from him, "I really don't want another one. I got it then, and I don't think anything has changed since."

"It wasn't either of those," he whispered sadly, "or maybe it was a little of both, I don't really know. I know whatever it was was selfish though, because I hate the thought of you hating me, even though I deserve it. I just felt like, 'If I could talk to him, maybe he would remember the way I used to be, how we were when we were together and it was just us and we were happy'. Because I still think of you like that, once I get past the guilt. You were my first love, and no matter who I love now, nothing will change that."

He expected to feel anger, to think _how dare he say he ever loved me? _but an unanticipated calm settled over Kurt instead. He wasn't sure he could explain it; maybe it was just the time and the distance that had passed between them, his heart healing more than he thought it had. He could accept that Blaine had hurt him, had done all the wrong things when it came to their relationship, could accept that he may never understand what had pulled Blaine towards Rachel, but in the midst of all that, he still had memories of what he and Blaine had been like. The quiet mornings spent in bed wrapped up in each other, the love notes they'd leave around the house if their schedules were busy, the valentines and the holidays and the moments when Blaine would look at him with such adoration it made Kurt's skin blush.

That had been real, no matter how it ended; and because he could admit that, he could start to truly let it go.

"Do you remember Coney Island on Halloween?" Kurt asked, the smile on Blaine's lips telling him that he did. "I didn't even want to go, but you insisted that we both needed a day off from classes, even though you were still trying to make up for the semester you were suspended from. I just remember going through the mirror house, clinging to your hand and waiting for those stupid clowns to jump out at me. You didn't let go of all night, and on the train ride back, you fell asleep on my shoulder and I looked at you and I realized at that moment how in love with you I really was. That it was even bigger than it had been in high school, it hadn't faded. And I thought then, if I could only relive one moment for the rest of my life, that would be it.

"That's what I've been thinking about lately," he continued, unable to stop the quirk of his own lips from forming a tiny grin. "I haven't forgotten how much you hurt me, or how angry I was about it, but underneath it all, I haven't forgotten the rest of it either. So, who knows, maybe one day I'll remember those things first."

"I'd like that," Blaine nodded, his eyes shifting away once again to the distance, fingers worrying the hem of his old t-shirt – a Dalton shirt, Kurt realized with a jolt. "I know she'd like that too."

Kurt's smile slipped. Talking to Blaine was surprisingly easier than he thought it would be, but he wasn't sure if the same would be true for Rachel. He hated to think he would be that person to blame "the other woman" in this whole scenario. Rachel had been his friend – sometimes even best friend – for years, and he loved her profoundly but... it wasn't the same. Blaine had a place in his heart carved out for him, and Kurt knew he would always be there; with Rachel, she had been the catalyst to all of this in his head. Just by being who she was, by caring about Blaine and loving him the way she never should have, she had changed the only life Kurt had ever wanted.

"She misses you," Blaine said.

"I think it's going to take me a little longer to get there," he said honestly to Blaine, who merely nodded again and Kurt suddenly wished he would stop being so passive. It was somehow more confusing than if Blaine had been demanding they work this out. If Blaine pressured him, Kurt would have an excuse for the hesitance he felt when it came to reaching out to Rachel. He could blame it on them trying to force him back into their lives, the one they effectively kicked him out of, but instead, Blaine just sat there, so understanding. It drove Kurt crazy.

"We've all been in each other's lives for almost a decade," Blaine replied with a bitter laugh, his fingers balling into a fist in the grass. "Even now, I can't quite wrap my head around the fact that I can't just call you in the middle of the night if I want to, or that I don't hear you and Rachel singing duets in the living room. It's weird but I get it. I just hate this is how it all turned out."

"I don't know how it could have turned out any other way," Kurt challenged, though it came out almost wistful, like a regret he never knew he had.

"In a perfect world," Blaine answered softly, voice barely a whisper as if he were afraid to even say it out loud, "I could have been picking you up from the airport too. Rachel would have been there, and you two would have laughed and ignored me the whole cab ride home. Rachel and I - we could tell you that we missed you, and ask you to stay with us for a few extra days, just to catch up. And when you went back to LA, we could call or write letters. We could invite you for Thanksgiving, Christmas, to our wedding."

"Wait, you're getting _married_?" Kurt interrupted, his heart suddenly pounding away at the inside of his chest. He'd spent so much time trying not to think about them as a _them, _instead focusing on how Blaine had hurt him, how Rachel had betrayed his trust, that he'd managed to never think about them as a functioning couple, in a real relationship with things like engagements and marriages and families and... _oh god. _

"Is she pregnant _again_?" he snapped and Blaine literally recoiled from the bitterness in his voice; Kurt wanted to scream, because it was like being transported back to the moment his life had come undone, as he listened to Blaine plead with an unconscious Rachel to wake up, listening to him cry over the daughter he'd never met. It was painful, and he wanted to hate Blaine all over again. He didn't deserve to flinch away from him, not after the nights Kurt has spent crying over him, the same night that Blaine had undoubtedly spend safe in his precious Rachel's arms.

Except that, the longer he sat with that rage broiling inside him, the more exhausted he felt. It had been like that back in LA too, when he could finally admit that he was tired of being angry, of being sad and hurt. He wanted to move on, and while he wasn't sure how to do it, maybe accepting that their lives went on without him, that they wouldn't stop just because he had caught them, maybe that was how he could press forward on his own. It wasn't fair, but it was all he could do. So he took a deep breath to calm himself, twisting his hands in his pockets and he said as humbly as he could, "I'm sorry. That was callous."

Blaine shook his head adamantly. "No, you have every right to be," he choked, his voice a deep rasp as he took a shuddering breath of his own. "No, she's not pregnant. We don't even live together. After all the mistakes we made, we decided we had to do this the right way. But," he said before Kurt had a chance to comment, not that he knew what he would have said, "I am going to ask her to marry me. Not now, but soon."

"Well," was all the reaction Kurt could muster, folding his arms over his knees as he stared out into the green of Central Park. He let Blaine's words sink in, settle in the pit of his stomach, and waited for the tears to start again, or his heart to drop, but nothing happened. He wouldn't say he was numb exactly, because there was a mild annoyance, a feeling that Blaine was being incredibly inconsiderate, or that he himself was just being overly sensitive. He wanted to talk to Rachel, or maybe yell at her in ways that he never really had the chance to, but above it all, he really just felt suitably resigned to the whole situation. He couldn't change it, now or then, and nothing he could do would stop them.

Silence passed, neither of them sure of what to do now that the conversation had reached a stalemate. It wasn't until Kurt's phone rang – which he promptly ignored – that either of them even moved. Blaine rubbed the back of his neck with both hands, trying to meet Kurt's gaze out of the corner of his eye. "She's debuting tonight."

"I know," Kurt replied, digging the heel of his boot into the ground in an attempt to avoid looking at Blaine. "I still haven't decided if I'm going."

"It would mean the world to her if you did,but I know she would understand if you didn't." was all Blaine said as he stood up, smoothing down the front of his pants. "I know you may not believe me Kurt, but it was good to see you."

Kurt watched him walk away down the hill, and he shook his head, a small smile inching it's way across his face. He could feel the envelope in his pocket pressed against his chest, calling to him, whispering his name. It was the same reason he hadn't been able to tear her letter up and burn it in the trash, why he had checked over ten times to make sure he packed them even when he wasn't sure he was going to actually get on the plan, and why he carried them with him around the city even if they would be safer back at the hotel. In his heart, he knew he couldn't miss this – she had worked too long, and too hard and for some reason. He still wasn't sure if he'd forgiven her, but those unresolved feelings, he could forget them for one night as important as this.

"Blaine!" he shouted, standing up at the top of the hill as Blaine reached the gate. "Tell Rachel I'll be there."

-:-

_**BLAINE  
><strong>_"Read it again," Rachel giggled, bouncing off her spot on the mattress to drape herself over Blaine's lap, the newspaper he held crinkling between them.

"You mean you don't have it memorized yet?" he laughed as she shook her head, her smile as wide as he'd ever seen it, eyes sparkling with mirth as she pushed the paper towards him once more, her fingers wrapped around his as he scanned he page for the article again. The crease folded easily from the paper having spent the entire morning since she rushed out to buy it being bent in half.

" _'While not a true stranger to the stage'_, " Blaine read the half-memorized words out loud, watching her out of the corner of his eye as she seemed to swell with pride, "_ 'relative newcomer Rachel Berry is effervescent in her first starring role as Elphaba, portraying the heroine's plight with the charm and poise expected from a seasoned actress. Berry delivers each scene with surging confidence and one leaves the audience feeling truly rewarded by the experience. It is safe to say the world of Broadway has welcomed Ms. Berry to the stage with the most open of arms and should expect to call her own of it's own for years to come'_."

She giggled again, throwing herself away from Blaine and bouncing off the bed, tugging a pair of sweatpants she normally only wore to rehearsals over her pajama shorts as she looked around for her shoes. "Hey!" Blaine cried, rolling after her, his bare knees dangling off the ends of the mattress. "Where are you going?"

"I have to buy more newspapers," she said breathlessly, her cheeks shining red from sheer excitement. "I have to send them to my dad, and Marco, to Mr. Schuester and Mrs. Pillsbury, and to Quinn and the whole glee club. Oh and Figgins so he can frame it for the trophy case in McKinley. And Jesse, I absolutely have to send one to Jesse, and your parents should have one, and Cooper and-."

"And how is the rest of New York supposed to read about your stunning debut?" he teased, his arms circling around her waist as he pulled her back down onto her bed, her hair splaying around her as she squealed happily, her legs tangling in his. Her arms looped around his neck, dragging him down to her for a quick kiss until he deepened it, teasing her smiling lips open as she hummed into his mouth, her fingers massaging gently into his scalp. His hands cradled the sides of her face, thumbs brushing gently over the curve of her cheek when he pulled away, gazing down into her bright eyes gazing back into his, her happiness lighting her up from the very depths of her soul.

"I am so proud of you," he whispered, his lips skimming over the tip of her nose, the slope of her jaw, the turn of her neck before settling back on his elbows, smoothing the hair at the top of her head with his palms. "You are incredible Rachel."

"It felt incredible," she breathed in agreement, her hands running aimlessly down his chest, catching in the collar of his shirt. "I was so nervous and I thought I was going to pass out in the first act, and I messed up that turn in the second, and I was so sure everyone was going to notice and that's all anyone was going to remember-."

"Are you kidding?" he interrupted gently, silencing her with a brief press of his lips against hers. "Rachel you were perfect, and there was no one in that theater last night who could take their eyes off you."

"Do you mean it?" she asked even as he nodded, his hands wandering out of her hair.

"You were perfect," he repeated, slipping his fingers under her the hem of her shirt, the warm of her flowing into him, "and beautiful." His hand rose. exposing her skin to his lips as he kissed his way up her stomach, feeling her breath hitch the higher he traveled. "And your voice," he whispered with his lips pressed just under her breast, "the angels were jealous, and you were," he paused for a moment as he let his tongue trace up her sternum, teeth nipping gently as her clavicle before snickering against her throat, "very, very green."

"Blaine!" she laughed, pushing him off her and readjusting her shirt as she sat up, her arms crossed over her chest. "It's part of the costume!"

"You're still wearing some of it," he pointed out, his finger tracing a faint line of paint that disappeared under her collar.

Her eyes furrowed together, clutching at her shirt and pulling it down to look, sighing wistfully when she found it. "Well, it's very hard to get off," she stated, somewhat begrudgingly, her smile slipping just slightly as she looked at it again. "I wonder if it will stain my other clothes. There's a reason Elphaba wears mostly black."

"I could get it off for you," he grinned, his fingers hooking in the collar of her shirt and dragging it down much further than it truly needed to be, the curve of her bare breast exposed as he leaned in, raking his tongue over the paint. He felt her laugh more than he heard her, her fingers crooking gently under his chin to lead him up to her waiting lips, kissing him deeply once more before slipping out of his grasp for good.

"As tempting as that is," she teased, throwing his jeans across the room, a clear indication that she expected him to get dressed, "I really do want to buy some more newspapers."

"Fine, fine," he chortled, shaking his head as his his curls fell down in his eyes, "but you're all mine after that."

"I promise," she exclaimed, yanking on a skirt to replace the sweats she had been wearing before stripping her shirt off and reaching for a bra, "that after we buy no less than 30 copies of _The New York Times, _we can come back and have all the congratulatory, celebratory sex you want."

"What do you take me for?" he gasped in mock offense.

"My adorable, wonderful, supportive boyfriend," she said as she ruffled his hair, sliding his cellphone into his pocket, "who is going to carry all the quarters for me."

-:-

He was sure they were a sight to see, carrying a stack of newspapers each as they trudged into the diner, Rachel muttering happily under her breath as she mentally checked off the names on her increasingly long list of people she just had to send the clipping to – she decided Shelby deserved one, as well as Finn and his wife, and Mercedes who hadn't been able to come because of her touring in Canada – while Blaine tried to keep them from falling off the booth and scattering all over the floor. Eventually they both settled down, Rachel swinging her legs into the booth as she tucked them under her body, leaning forward to look over the menu while Blaine skimmed it, reading upside down in a way he'd grown accustomed to after all these years of surviving on diner food and take out with her. He ordered coffee, and a large kettle of tea, his fingers lacing naturally through hers as she reached across the table to take his hand.

"Can you believe Kurt came?" she said, breaking into a smile that never seemed to really go away. "He never answered my letter and I had no idea if he received the ticket, but he was there with those gorgeous roses and he hugged me Blaine. He hugged me."

"I know," he said gently, rubbing circles into the back of her hand. "I told you there was no way he was going to miss this."

"He could have," she shrugged, flipping a laminated page over to study the back. "I wouldn't have blamed him at all you know, if he hadn't come."

"He would have regretted it," he shrugged as the waitress came for their order, Rachel requesting a few more minutes before she lapsed into silence while Blaine drank his coffee. Even now, sitting in a diner they had been to a million times, she looked like she was on the verge of bursting into song, overjoyed and giddy; she was beyond happy and he didn't think he'd ever seen her more beautiful. And all he could do was stop and enjoy the moment, keep it forever, because he didn't want it to pass them over and leave them behind. Because this was literally her moment, the one she had lived her whole life for and he was lucky enough to be sharing it with her.

"We haven't been here in a long time," she remarked after the waitress came back, Blaine letting her order for him when she couldn't decide between two of the plates, a process tried and true between the two of them.

"I was wondering if you'd recognize it," he said, a playful grin playing at his lips.

"I feel like we spent the first three years of our lives in New York here," she replied with a gentle toss of her hair. "You and I used to come here two or three times a week when you first moved here. We had a lot of late nights in this diner."

"I feel like my entire life changed in this diner," Blaine confessed, her eyebrow quirking up in question as she sipped at her tea. "You had just finished that dance class you were taking that summer, to stay in shape, and all you wanted were pancakes. So we came here and you were chattering about how much I was going to love New York, even though I'd been here for about a month already. And your hair was in this messy bun and your makeup was gone, and you were wearing this weird cut-off shirt with a huge sunflower on it; and I just remember looking at you as you sat across from me and thinking _"she is the most beautiful person in my life". _And you still are, in every way I can think of."

"You never told me that," she whispered, her eyes wide and searching as she gazed into his, a tiny grin settling on her lips as he averted his own to stare at his knees.

"I think," he said self-consciously, rubbing the back of his neck, "that's when I started to- I don't know, it was just- something changed that day and I-."

"It was after for me," she interjected, saving him from his stuttering nightmare, tugging his on his hand insistently until he looked back at her. "We'd been... intimate for a few weeks, and you had fallen asleep on my shoulder while watching _The Sound of Music. _It was my choice, but I couldn't really pay attention to it because my entire world seemed to consist of you, just laying there, sleeping, this little smile on your lips and your hand resting on my thigh where it had fallen out of my hand during the film. I knew I loved you, but I didn't realize _how _until that moment."

"It's crazy, right?" Blaine muttered, leaning over the table as if just to feel closer to her. "That it took us so long, I mean."

"I don't know," Rachel smiled, copying his movement until they were nearly touching, separated by only a few easily closed inches. "Maybe this is the way it was supposed to be. Because sometimes it feels like I'm still coming to terms with it all. Every time I turn around, there's something new about you to love."

"You think we can really do this?" and even as he said it, he knew what her answer would be.

"Blaine, we've been doing it for years," she teased, lifting herself off the seat just enough to press her forehead against his.

"What if we do it forever?" he whispered, lips brushing against hers as he spoke before he leaned forward again, catching her bottom lip between his, letting it linger and warm him from the inside out, his hand falling to the side of her neck to lead her further into him, their mouths parting at the same time. Her eyelashes fluttered against his skin just as his eyes slid shut. He could feel her, all around him and in his heart and mind and her memory sinking into his skin; how the last year of their lives had been about letting this be, knowing and understanding and truly having it for the first time. No more hiding and sneaking around and neglecting to say the words because they might hurt too much to hear. And they still fought, they still cried, they still made mistakes, but they did it together and in that end, that was all he'd ever really wanted and all she never needed.

"I love you," he said as they parted, and she seemed to glow as she said it back to him.

Everything they'd gone through, put themselves through, worked for and fought for, this was it. This was the beginning.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> I know this chapter took forever to get out, but I wanted it to be perfect because this is it, this is the last chapter. Thank you all so so much for reading and reviewing and favoriting and following and your incredible patience with me. It's been amazing and rewarding and I thank you so much for letting me share this with you.

And I have to give the world's biggest thank you to someone who has become my very best friend, and without her I truly don't think I would have been able to finish this at all. Ashley has been there with me every step of the way and sometimes I feel this story is as much hers as it is mine, as much as it is yours. But truly, without Ashley, there's no telling where this would be and I am forever eternally grateful to have her in my life and in the process of writing this.

Again, I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.


End file.
